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I
ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
DEDICATED TO THE
AUTHOR OF "RODNEY STONE"
IN WHOM
THE POET OF THE AUSTRALIAN BUSH
(the pupil OF JEM EDWARDS, THE EARYWIo)
WOULD HAVE FOUND A MAN AND A WRITER AFTER HIS
OWN HEART
• • • •
• • •
« 4 '
• • • •
ill
■ ^1
ill
ill
sn
if
ft
ADAM LINDSAY
GORDON
AND HIS FRIENDS IN ENGLAND
AND AUSTRALIA
BY
EDITH HUMPHRIS
AND
DOUGLAS SLADEN
triTB SIXTEEN SKETCHES BT GOSDON AND NUMEROUS
OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS
' m
LONDON
CONSTABLE & COMPANY LTD.
1912
THE ARMS OF
ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
THE AUSTRALIAN POET
^
eoRBON OF haLlhead and esslemont
Windlesham,
Orotobortmgk,
Dear Sladen^
I am proud to accept your kind dedication of
this Life of Adam Lindsay Gordon^ both as a proof of
your personal friendship and on account of my feelings
towards the subject of your memoir. Gordon was a fine
poet and a fine sportsman, and it is curious that in a
sporting nation like ours his great merits have not been
more generally recognised. As a sportsman he could
haitUy be beaten in his own line. As a poet he had a
Swinbumian command of rhythm and rhyme without
ever letting the music of words overlay the sense as the
great master was so often tempted to do. In his racing
and hunting poems you can hear the drumming of the
hoofs, and he took his rhymes flying, like his hedges.
Then behind this robust, open-air Gordon there was another
man revealed in the poems, a proud, lonely, sensitive man
with something Byronic in his view of life. Most precious
also was that power of sudden pathos which he possessed,
an emotion which is so much more effective when in a
virile setting. Grordon was a true sportsman in that he
conceived sport to be the overcoming of difficulties, the
hard ride across country, the yacht in a breeze, the man
against the savage beast. He had a horror of pseudo-
sport, the wholesale purposeless killing of small birds or
beasts, the persecution of the badger, the otter, or any of
the other pretty wild things which give beauty and variety
to the countryside. We need in this country a more
healthy public opinion upon this point. I love that verse
of Gordon's — I am quoting from memory and may not
be word-perfect —
V
273232
VI
'^But you've no remorseful qualms or pangs
When you kneel by the Grizzly's lair^
On that conical bullet your sole chance hangs ;
'Us the weak one's advantage fair.
And the shag^ giant's terrific fangs
Are ready to crush and tear;
Should you miss— one vision of home and friends,
Five words of unfinish'd prayer^
Three savage knife stabs^ so your sport ends
In the worrying grapple that chokes and rends; —
Rare sporty at leasts for the bear."
Yours sincerely,
Arthur Con an Doyle.
JiOjf 16, 1912.
CONTENTS
PAOI
I Thx Life of Adam Ltndbat Gordon ... 1
{By Douglas Sladm only)
II Famous Satinos of Gordon which arb Pbovsrbs
AND Household Words in Austraua . 75
in A Talk with Gordon's Widow .... 79
{By a A JFUton, M.J.L)
TV How Gordon Rode in Australia, as told by
His Friends 91
V Gordon's Connection with Major Baker (Sir
Thomas Durand Baker) 114
YI Beminiscencbs of Adam Lindsat Gtordon .119
{By his Oousint Miss Frances Ocrdon)
VII Table of Descent of the Family of Gordon of
Hai.lhead and Esslemont 137
{Supplied by the courtesy qf Miss Frances Gordon and
CoL JFohrige Gordon)
Vm Gordon's Father — A Cheltenham Colonel
Newoome 134
IX Adam Lindsat Gordon, O.C 142
X The Knock-out of Edwards bt Lindsat Gordon . 160
XI Another Boxing Chapter — ^' Such as Jem Eartwiq
CAN WELL Impart" 169
Xn Gordon in the Cotswolds 177
Xm The Scene of "How We Beat the Favourite" . 190
XIV The Race described bt Gordon .199
XV Gordon and the EvERrPAiTHFUL Citt — Worcester . 206
XVI "And Black Tom Oliver" 220
XVn The Steeplechase Bidebs — George Stevens, "Mr.
Thomas," William Archer, etc. . , . 237
a •
Til
viii CONTENTS
CRAP. TAOm
XVIII Gordon as a Poet 254
(By Douglas Sladen only)
XIX A Key to the Principal Allusions in Gordon's
Poems 287
XX Poems not included in the Collected Edition of
HIS Works 329
XXI Bush Songs attributed to Gordon 350
PART II
I The Romance of Adam Lindsay Gordon . . 355
(By Douglas Sladen only)
II The Descent of Adam Lindsay Gordon . . 366
(Constructed by John Malcolm Bulloch)
III The Gordons of Hallhead 368
(By John Malcolm Bulloch)
IV Gordon's Lively Great-grandmother . . 377
(By John Malcolm Bulloch)
V Adam Lindsay Gordon's Naval and Military
Kinsmen 386
(A Table constructed by John Malcolm Bulloch)
VI The Letters of Adam Lindsay Gordon to Charley
Walker 387
VII Other Lbiters written by Gordon, including
THE Famous Letter to his Uncle, given in his
OWN Handwriting 420
VIII Notes on the Gordon Country in South Australia
made in November 1887 430
(By C, D, Mackellarf Author of ** Scenied Isles amd
CoraZ Gardens'*)
IX Reminiscences of Gordon 438
(By the Hon, Sir Frank Madden, Speaker of the
Parliament of Victoria)
X Mr. George Riddoch's Reminiscences of Gtordon 444
XI Mr. F. Vaughan, P.M.'s Reminiscences of Gordon 451
XII Letters about Gordon, chiefly from his Literary
Circle 456
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Pacing pa^e
Adam Likdsat Gordon on his Favourite Stbbplbghaber
*' Cadger" FrotUiapiece
Drawn by an officer in the 14th Regiment at St. Eilda, Melbourne.
(See p. 449.) Beproduced by permission of George Eiddoch, Esq., of
Koorvne, Soiuh Australia.
Cheltenham College as it was when Gordon was at
School there 1
Drawn by the late D. J. Humphrii, architect of the old OoUe^
Chapel ahown on the right, etc. ; grand&ther of Miss £. M. Hiunphns.
Miss Frances Gordon, Daughter of Capt. R. C. H. Gordon,
Soots Fusilier Guards, and Cousin op the Poet . 6
Adam Lindsay Gordon at the Age of Thirty ... 6
From a daffaerreotype sent by him at the time of his marriage,
to his uncle, Miss Goraon's father. By permission of Miss Frcmces
Cfordon.
Thomas Pigkernell^ Esq., the ''Mr. Thomas*' who rode
Three Winners in the Grand National . .16
Beprodnced from Baily^s Magazine.
Black Tom Oliver 16
(See Ohap. IX.) From a photograph in the possession of the late
Edmund EtolUnd of Prestbuiy.
Captain R. C. H. Gordon, Soots Fusilier Guards, Uncle
of the Poet 20
From a miniature lent by Miss Frances Gordon.
Adam Durnvord Gordon, the Cheltenham Colonel New-
come, Father of the Poet, and for Fleyen Years
Hindustani Master at Cheltenham College 20
From a miniature lent by Miss Frances Gordon.
Rat-Catching with Variations 30
A sketch to which he gave this title, by Adam Lindsay Gordon.
Beprodueed by permission of Miss H. Walker.
ix
X LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Facing page
Thb Traditionary Site op Gordon's Leaf at Mt. Gambibr 36
(See p. 87-8. ) Reproduced hy permission of the** South Australian
JUgister."
9
DiNOLST Dbll, Gordon's Cottaoe near Eobb, South
Australul 38
Reproduced by permission of the " South Australian Register*'
The Cottage at Glenelq, Adelaide, where Gordon Lived
WHILE HE WAS A MbHBBB OP PARLIAMENT ... 42
From a photo by the late S. Milboarn, Jonr., given by him to
Mr. Sladen for reproduction.
A. L. Gordon when he was an M.P. in South Australia 44
Reprodticed hy permission of the Sydney Bulletin Go,
Gordon on " Viking/* the Horse on which he won several
Steeplechases 50
(See p. 100-108.) Given by the kte S. Milbomn, Junr., to Mr.
Sladen for reprodaction.
Adam Lindsay Gordon in his Racing Colours ... 68
From a sketch by the Honble. Sir Frank Madden, Speaker of the
Parliament of Victoria, made after a race at Flemington, and
reproduced by his permiasion. ' ' That tilt of the peak of the racing
cap was quite charaoteristic." — Sir Frank Madden.
The Mecca op Australian Literature — Gordon's Monu-
ment IN THE Brighton Cbmetbrt near Melbourne 74
Given by the late S. Milboum, Junr., to Mr. Sladen for repro-
duction.
Mrs. Adam Lindsay Gordon 80
Given by the late S. Milboum, Junr., to Mr. Sladen for repro-
duction.
ESSLBMONT, AbBRDBBNSHIRE, THB SEAT OP THE GORDONS OP
HaLLHEAD and EsSLEMONT, now THB PrOPBRTT OP
Colonel Wolrige Gordon 118
Drawn by Miss Frances Gordon and her brother. Reproduced by
Miss Oordows permission.
No. 4 PiTTviLLB Villas, Cheltenham, where Gordon's
Father resided when he pir&t went to Cheltenham . 134
Photo by J, A, fFiUiams, Cheltenham,
No. 25 Priort Street, Cheltenham, where Gordon was
living at the time op his departure por Australia . 134
The house mentioned in "An Exile's FarewelL*' Photo by
J, A, H^illiamSt Cheltenham,
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS xi
Trinitt Church, Chbltbnham, whbrb (tOrdon's Fathsr,
mothsb and si8tbb8 wbrb bubisd .... 138
lAOwgraphedfrom a drawing by ChrdmCsfrund^ Oeorffe Bowe,
SwBET St Mart's, thb Parish Ohuroh of Chbltbnham 158
From an engnving by H. Lftlnb.
'< Hark ! the beUa on dktant cattle
Wart across the range,
Through the golden-tnfted wattle,
Mnaic low and strange ;
Like the marriage peal of fairies
Gomes the tinklmg sound.
Or like chimes of sweet St. Mary's
On far English gromid."
A. L. Gordon in "Finis Ezoptatns."
Jbm Edwards's Boxing Saloon in thb Robbuck Inn,
Chbltbnham, showing thb Mantblpibob which oausbd
his Knock-out in a Round with Gordon . . . 162
(See p. 163.) Photo by J. A, fFiUiam, ChOUnJuMm.
Two Portraits of Jbm Edwards thb Eartwig, thb Middlb-
WBiGHT Champion, who had a Boxing Saloon at
Chbltbnham and taught Gordon how to Box . .166
He won all his great fights. He has the bird's-eye handkerchief
he wore round his waist m his fights spread on his knees in the
left-hand picture. Photo by Mr. Dunn, Free Library, CheU&nham.
Jkm Edwards's Gravb in thb Chbltbnham Cbmbtbrt . .168
Stephen Miles, the caretaker shown here, was himself a humble
follower of Jem Edwards. Photo by J. A. JFiUiams, CheiUnham.
Thb Latb Gborgb Stbvbns, Rider of Fivb Winnbrs in thb
Grand National 172
(See p. 24S-4.) Mentioned in *<How We Beat the Favourite."
By permission qf his son, Oeorge Stevens, Esq.
Gbobob Rbbybs, thb Cheltenham Riding Master, who gave
Gordon his First Lessons in Riding and found thb
MoNBT FOR Tom Saters' Earlt Fights . .172
From a photograph lent by the late Mrs. Yillar, daughter of the
late Fred MarshalL
Captain Louis Edward Nolan, who brought thb Ordbb for
thb Light Brigade to charge at Balaclava, and was
the first to fall 184
Beproduoed from the Illustrated London News of 1864.
Enovebton House 192
The chief feature in the soeneiy of * * How We Beat the Fayourite."
A typical Ootswold Manor House ; the fafade is veiy beautiful, but
the race passed on this side. Photo by J. A. WiMiams, CA«M#ftAatii.
xii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Facing pofft
Mr. Alfbbd Holman'8 (formerlt Bob Chapman's) Tbainino
Stables 196
A landmark of the Prestbmy racecourse, on which Gordon rode
" Lallah Bookh " in the Berkeley Hiint Steeplechase, 1852. Mr. W.
Holman wu the real winner of the race diescribed in "How We
Beat the Favourite." PJioto by J. A. IVilliams, Cheltenham.
A Letteb fbom Toh Ouveb, with Dibsotions to George
Stevens fob biding "The Colonel" in the Grand
National 198
(See p. 289.)
The Scene of " How We Beat the Favourite " (Knoverton
Lane) 200
The stone wall that ** Mantrap " and " Mermaid " refused is on
the right and the fence with stone coping on the left.
The Wall in "How We Beat the Favourite" which
Gordon calls the Fence with Stone Coping . 200
It stands on a steep bank. Both are photos by J, A. Williamst
Cheltenham.
The Bbook in " How we Beat the Favourite " . . 204
"She rose when I hit her. I saw the stream glitter,
A wide scarlet nostril flashed close to my knee."
Photo by J. A. Williams^ Cheltenham.
Sunday Recreations — A Scene on the Cbowle Road 208
A sketch by A. L. Gordon, to which he gave this title. It
represents Gordon and Charley Walker wrestlins. In all these
sketches Gordon has a foreheaa curl. Reproduced by permiseion of
Mitsff. Walker.
The Old Plough Inn at Wobcesteb fbom whose Stables
GOBDON REMOVED '' LaLLAH RoOKH." ThE StABLES ABE
THBOUGH THE AbCH TO THE LEFT 212
Tom Oliver on "Birmingham" 226
Beprodueed by permission of Mrs. Shepherd, of the Stork Hotels
Birmingham. Ffom the oil-painting which hangs there.
George Stevens's Monument in the Cheltenham Cemeteby 238
Photo by J. A. WUUams.
Geobge Stevens on " The Colonel," Winner of the Grand
National in 1869 and 1870, but called " The Unlucky
HoBSE " . .242
Beprodueed by permission^ from the oil-painting in the possession of
his soKf Oeorge Stevens, Esq.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS xiu
Four Stkuplbchass Skbtghbs bt A. L. Gobdon . 256
Lent by Mr. T. D. Porter. Rqn'oduced by pemiisaion of the
** South Auitralian BeffisUrr
A. L. Gordon Stebpliohabino 286
Drawn by himaelf. JReprodueed hy permission of Miss H, Walker.
The Stone which Marks the Place where George Stevens
MET WITH HIS FaTAL AcCIDENT 316
He WM riding '' The Clown," n&med after the horse in " How We
Beat the Favourite." (Seepage 242.) Photo by J, A, Williams,
Cheltenham,
Bob Chapman (Hard-Ridino Bob) 344
" There's lots of refusing, and foils, and mishans ;
Who's down on the chestnut ? He's hurt nimself, p'raps.
Oh I it's Lindsay the Lanky, says Hard-riding Bob,
He's luckily saved Mr. Okleraft a job."
A. L. QoKDON, 1852.
Jteprodueed by permission of Mr. Charles Trovess, late ffuntsman
to*'TheCotswolds."
The Jane of Gordon's Bom ance 356
Itqfrodueed by h^r permission.
Gordon and Charley Walker. The Walk to Brighton
— ^A Deviation from the Path 364
"Refused again, by Jove! What a bunker! Take it here,
man I " " Hanff i^ the path baulks me : give us a lead over. " From
a sketch by Gordon. Reproduced by permission of Miss H. Walker.
The Morning op St. Valentine's Day in the Brouohton
Barn two hours after Midnight .... 394
The native rats disturbed by foreign bodies.
Cordon, Is that your arm or a rat, Charley, moving dose to
my headt
Charley Walker, A rat, I suppose ; I'm lying still.
Sketched by Crordon. Beproduced by permission of Miss H, Walker,
On page
Gordon Walking in the Rain 397
From a sketch by himselC Beproduced by permission of Miss H,
Walker.
Gordon Winning a Foot-race 398
Sketched by himself. Beproduced by permission of Miss H.
Walker.
Gordon Carrying a Basket for a Girl on his Walk from
Worcester to Cheltenham 400
Sketched by himself. Beprotl/uced by permission of Miss H,
Walker.
xiv LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
On pagt
A. L. Gordon 401
Sketched by lumaelf. Beprodv^d by perniimo^n, <ff Mas H.
W(dk9r,
Gordon Walking from Woroestbr to Cheltenham . 403
Sketched by hizneel^ R^prod/uced by permimon of Miu H,
Walker,
« LaLLAH BoOKH " IN THE StBEPLBOHASE AT CHELTENHAM,
1853(1) 406
Sketched by Gordon. ReprodtLctd by pemiisiion of Miss ff.
WaXkw.
Gordon on "Cadger,*' Winner of the Metropolitan
Steeplechase 421
Sketched by Gordon. JUproditced vritk tkt letter to Captain
B, (7. JSr. Oardon, By permission of his daughter^ Miss F, OoriUm.
THE PREFACE
(By Douglas Sladen)^
At this moment every Australian is subscribing for a
national monument to Gordon^ the poet of the Australian
Bush. It is well that this Gordon should rise in bronze
from the heart of Melbourne, as his boyhood's friend.
General Gordon^ rises from the heart of Africa in the
Public Gardens of Khartum. But Adam Lindsay Gordon,
like Charles George Gordon, has, in the words of Horace,
created for himself a monument more enduring than
bronze by his life-work, and his life-work forms the subject
of this book.
The Gordon Highlanders as a regiment are nuUi secundus
in reputation for military valour. And these two Gordons,
who were educated at the Royal Military Academy'
together, and whose friendship in their boyhood is a matter
* Hie cbapteTS signed by Mr. Sladen are written entirely by him. He
sole^ ia reBpondble for the opinions expressed in them.
^ ueneral T. Bland Strange, R.A., who was at the R.M. A, Woolwich^
with both of them, and to whom I owe some of the most valuable infer-
matioii about the poet's youth, wrote to me a few months ago—
" As to the two Gordons, they were the antitheses — of their generation
— one a grim, oonscientious Puritan, the other a sensuous, pleasure-loving
poet and sportsman. Charlie, squat and unhandsome; Lindsay tall,
sl^zht, active and wiry. I never heard anything to his discredit in }ua
mmta^ career. I heurd he had to leave the Service because he had
prraaised to ride a horse at a race meeting for a friend* The owner (his
friend) became bankrupt and his creditors seiseed the horse. Lmdsay
G<urdon stole him out of the stable, rode and won the race, as he had
promised. Both Gordons came of the military caste. Charlie's father
was a Ctoneral of Artilknr, and all his brothers were in the Service ; Lindsay's
was an officer of the Lidian Army and a great shikari : he became a
PlrofesBor of Military Subjects (really Oriental languages, D.S.) at Qielten-
ham OoUege. His mother was also a Gordon, hu father's cousin, which
perhaps accounted for Lindsay's eccentricity 1 He was very short-sighted,
wfaichperhaps accounted for the desperate jumps he would put his horse
at. He was a very lovable man, especially to women. I think Charlie
Gk>rdon owed much of his stem character and success in life to constitu-
timal indifference to women. He had a smooth, almost hairless face,
but a desperate virility of valour."
XV
xvi THE PREFACE
of history, are above all things proverbs for reckless
bravery. Neither of them had ever seen fear. Both had
defied Death times without number.
It is difficult to believe that the wild Bushman had been
brought up in the same iron Christianity as ^^ The General
with the spirit of a martyr." But it is a fact.
Unfortunately, in the poet's case the iron had entered
into his soul, and something of his wildness seems to have
been due to the longing of the merry spirit of his boyhood
to escape from the grejmess of its surroundings. All true
poets are insurgents against Convention, whether they
wield a broad humanity like Shakespeare, or run amok
like Byron, Gordon's prototype. Even Wordsworth had
his dowdy unconventionahty.
Gordon was very Byronic. He began with escapades
and eccentricities of dress. From a boy he loved to use
his fists, and, if he did not get into the School XI like
Bjrron, he had won steeplechases at an age when most
boys are absorbed in the sports of Public Schools. Like
Byron, he sold his birthright for a mess of pottage. Like
Byron, the shades of gloom closed in round his manhood
until he sank into an early grave. The phoenix rose from
the ashes of both. And, if Gordon's fame is not as world-
wide as Byion's, he has this to console him, that, while
Bjrron's hold on his countrjrmen is now intellectual only,
Gordon enjoys the passionate love of Australia. He is
Australia's hero, as well as her poet. Perhaps no poet
ever enjoyed such a personal devotion.
This book is written with absolute candour. Others
might have felt an inclination to suppress the poet's letters
to Charley Walker, which form the most important contri-
bution to the study of Gordon's character ever published*
because they tell us in his own words that the rumours of
the wildness of his youth were true. I had no hesitation
in publishing them, though I knew what a profound
sensation their publication must cause in Australia, where
Gordon's personality is a personal matter with almost
THE PREFACE x\di
every intelligent person. For they prove his sincerity,
that the remorse for sowing the wind, which is the keynote
of his more serious poetry, was genuine, and not the
affectation of a morbid spirit.
And their publication does more than that. They show
the evolution of the character, which was to stamp itself
not only on Australian poetry, but on Australian manhood.
In csonnection with Miss Humphris's briUiant chapters
about the life of Gordon and his sporting friends in the
nineteen years he spent in England, they help us to complete
the map of his life.
In England, as in Australia, he won the attention of
every one by his fearlessness ; and he won the affection of
all who were in his immediate circle by his merry spon-
taneous nature. But his lightheartedness led to his sowing
wild oats, and they seemed to his father so wild that he
shipped him off to Australia, not, we must believe, so much
with the idea of ridding himself of a nuisance, as with the
idea that his son's courage and adventurousness might be
turned to good account in the lawless atmosphere of the
Great Gold Rush. We may think this, because he procured
for him a commission for which the poet never applied, in
the South Australian Mounted Police. Gordon preferred
to enlist in the same corps as a constable, and from that
moment the steady improvement in his character began.
Gordon had many misfortunes and hardships in
Australia, but every year he grew more manly and
respected, and in his last days, when he was broken by
accidents and poverty, we find him the valued and intimate
friend and a favourite guest in the houses of the most
prominent men in their respective colonies, like the
Riddochs and the Powers.
I do not in the Preface purpose to go further into the
character of Gordon than to emphasise the fact that the
splendid fight he fought with hardships in the old Colonial
days made a hero of him, and a writer of heroic poems
second to none in our language.
xviu THE PREFACE
This book is written to prove that Gordon, whatever
his faults, was a hero. The world has known for half a
century how manful his poems are.
But the object of a preface is to set forth the character
of the book itself — ^to tell the reader if this is the book he
has been looking for. So I must briefly indicate its con-
tents. It contains of course a life of Gordon, and a chrono-
logical table of the principal events in his short life of
thirty-six years, and a study of his poems. The reader
will take them for granted and wish to know the special
features of the book.
One of the most important of them will be found just
after the list of Gordon's sayings which have become pro-
verbs and household words — Mrs. A. L. Gordon* s Reminis-
cences of her Husband. After a silence of forty-two years
she has, for the first time since his death, told the world
what she remembers of her famous husband. She told
it in a talk with Mr. C. R. Wilton, M.J.I., by whose
kindness and that of Sir J. Langdon Bonython, editor-
proprietor of the (South Australian) Advertiser^ I am able
to give it here.
What Mrs. Gordon does for the Australian portion of
his life Miss Frances Gordon does for the English. She
was the daughter of the favourite uncle to whom Gordon
always turned when he was in trouble. She saw him every
day for a year and a half, while he was living in her father's
house to attend the Worcester Grammar School. She
remembers all his home circle. She has preserved many
relics, including that admirable letter of A. L. Gordon
to his uncle, which is given in this volume in facsimile
to show what Gordon's thoughts looked like in his own
handwriting. It is to her too that we owe the picture
of Esslemont, the baronial mansion which played such a
great part in the culmination of the Gordon tragedy; it
is also through miniatures lent by her and reproduced here,
that we become acquainted with the beautiful and aristo-
cratic face of Gordon's father, the Cheltenham Colonel
THE PREFACE xix
Newoome, as beautiful as the Miss Linley who married
Sheridan, and the noble and dignified face of the uncle to
whom he owed so much. It is to her that we are indebted
for the daguerreotype of himself which Gordon sent home
at the time of his marriage to her f ather» the most authentic
portrait of Gordon in existence. It is to her that we are
indebted for his coat of arms (to be compared with that of
the Gordon of Gicht who became Lord Byron's mother) ;
it is to her that we are indebted for Gordon's earliest long
poem, that on the death of Nelson, preserved in Gordon's
own handwriting in an album belonging to her, and never
before printed. It is to her and her nephew. Captain W. A.
Gordon, D.S.O., and Colonel Wobige Gordon, the present
owner of Esslemont (who has chivalrously written of the
poet as at one time the heir-apparent to the estates), that
we owe the table of the descent of the Gordons of Hallhead
and Esslemont. To the illustriousness of this descent I
shall alhide lower down.
The letters to Charley Walker mentioned above, were
written most of them just before he left England, but a
few were written during his first years in Australia. Their
chief value lies in the fact that Gordon wished to conceal
notiiii^ from his boyhood's friend, and the fact that they
rdate partly to the wild oats which led to his leaving
England, partly to the spirit with which he commenced
life in Australia, in which he grew ever manlier from the
day that he landed, to that fatal dawn of Midsummer Day
1870. I am enabled to give the letters and the pencil
sketches by the courtesy of Charley Walker's daughter,
IGss Henriette Walker.
As I am not competent to offer any opinion on Gordon
as a rider, I quote in ^' How Gordon rode in Australia,"
the opinions of critics in the Atutralasiany the Field of
Australia, and the reminiscences supplied by his friends,
such as Mr. George Riddoch, Mr. F. Vaughan and Sir
Frank Madden. I have established the fact that Sir
Thomas Durand Baker, the Major Baker whose horses
62
XX THE PREFACE
Gordon rode most in his steeplechasing career, was, like
Gordon, educated at Cheltenham College. They might
well have been there together in two of those years of
Gordon's early life of which the record has been lost.
Questions like this are discussed in the " Key to the
Principal Allusions in Gordon's Poems," which is one of
the most important features of the book. In the family
allusions and the classical allusions the key is fairly com-
plete. But there are still various names of horses and
sporting personages, which have defied identification, and
Miss Humphris and I will be very grateful for any additions
to, or corrections in, the glossary which our readers send us.
I can imagine that this key to the allusions in Gordon's
poems will be much studied and closely criticised on stations
all over Australia, as well as by the students of Gordon in
Melbourne, Sydney and Adelaide, and desire every im-
provement which can be suggested for subsequent editions.^
With such help the key can be made reasonably complete.
Of the various poems included in this volume, but not
included in the collected edition of Gordon's works edited
by his first recogniser, the late Marcus Clarke, by far the
most important is ** Argemone," written for Miss Riddoch,
and given to me for publication by Mr. Gteorge Riddoch
of Koorine Station, South Australia, one of the best friends
Gordon ever had and one of the most intimate of his
surviving friends. The poem on the Death of Nelson is a
youthful poem given to me by Miss Frances Gordon. ^' The
Feud " was given to me for publication by the late Patchett
Martin. " I am weary, lay me low," and " At night I've
heard the marsh-frog's croak," were given to me for publi-
cation in my anthology, Australian Poets^ and appeared
in that volume. *^ Gordon's Last Poem " was sent to me
^ Addressed to Douglas Sladen, o/o Archibald Constable & Co., 10
Orange Street, London, W.C. Information as to the whereabouts of any
unpublished poems, letters or sketches, and the lost letters written by
Gordon to John Riddoch, and by Gordon's father to various correspondents,
will also be gratefully received, as will materials for a bibliography of books
and articles which have been written about Gordon.
THE PREFACE xxi
by the Queenslander ; the original draft of ^^ Finis Exopta*
tus '' and ^^ Lindsay the Lanky " by the editor of the
Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News ; and three witty
stanzas, which will be much quoted, come from Gordon's
letters to Charley Walker.
Miss Humphris collected the material for Chapters VII
to XVn, which form the backbone of the book insomuch
as they describe the sporting career and sporting friends
of Gordon in England. The accident of Miss Humphris's
living at Cheltenham, where her grandfather had been
one of the principal architects of the College, put her
into a position to ferret out the details of a most interest-
ing period of Gordon's life, which Mr. Howlett Ross, the
author of that fascinating memoir which made him the
pioneer of Gordon biographers, and Messrs. Turner and
Sutherland, whose Development of Australian lAterature
makes them the Leslie Stephens of Australia, were from
their residence in Australia unable to gather. I owe
my old friend Henry Gyles Turner, the historian of
Australia, who was the chief Austrahan critic in the days
when I Uved in Melbourne, my deepest thanks for placing
his materials unreservedly at my disposal.
The present volume deals mainly with Gordon among
his English sporting friends, such as Jem Edwards, the
famous Middle-Weight Champion, who was never beaten
in any of his great fights, and who made Gordon such a
magnificent boxer; Tom Sayers, the immortal prize-
fighter, who often boxed with him ; Black Tom Oliver, the
great trainer at Prestbury, who rode the winner in three
Grand Nationals, and gave Gordon his first mount on a
raoe-horse ; William Archer, whose son, the great Fred, was
bom at Prestbury ; George Stevens, who rode five winners
in the Grand National, and still holds the record for that
race ; and Tom Pickernell, " the Mr. Thomas " who rode
three Grand National winners and was Gordon's school
friend at Cheltenham College. To him more than any one
else Miss Humphris owes her knowledge of the episodes
xxii THE PREFACE
of Gordon's steepleehasing career in England. Miss
Humphris's discoveries and the letters of Charley Walker
import an element of humour into Gordon's biography
which was never there before, and the people who» like
General Strange^ knew him as a boy, all except the lady
with whom he was in love, refer to him as a merry boy
full of high spirits.
To these materials I have been able to add fresh reminis-
cences of Gordon in Australia written by some of his most
intimate friends — such as Mr. George Riddoch, a member
of the great South Australian family who were Gordon's
best friends in his misfortunes ; Mr. F. Vaughan, P.M., who
was his intimate friend for many years in the early da3rs ;
Mr. George Gordon Macrae, himself one of the best
Australian poets ; and Sir Frank Madden, Speaker of the
Parliament of Victoria ; while Mr. C. D. Mackellar, author
of Scented Isles and Coral Gardens^ has described the
extraordinary Gordon country of South Australia, the
honie of the legendary Bunyip.
It used to be thought that Gordon had no love romance
in his youth. But we know now that he was so attached
to the beautiful Jane Bridges that, after all arrangements
had been made for his going to Australia and his ticket
taken, he went to her to offer to throw over the whole
thing, if she would promise to marry him, or bid him stay.
But the lady, to her honour, refused, and by her kindness,
supplemented by Gordon's own letters, I am able to give
the chapter on the romance of Adam Lindsay Gordon.
Another phase of Gordon's life which has hitherto not
received adequate attention, is the historical eminence
of his family, so ably set forth by Mr. John Malcolm
Bulloch, editor of The House of Gordon, for the New Spald-
ing Club, in his Gordon pedigrees and his chapters on the
Gordons of Hallhead and Esslemont, and Gordon's famous
great-grandmother. Lady Henrietta. Mr. Bulloch has
long been recognised as the ablest historian of the Gordons,
and is one of London's chief editors.
THE PREFACE xxiii
He had a fine subject to write on, for the Hallhead
Gordons, of which the poet was at the time of his death
the head in the direct male line, were, like the Dukes of
Gordon, the Marquesses of Huntly and the Earls of
Aberdeen, lineal descendants of ELdom (Adam) of Gordon,
and Gordon was by intermarriage connected with the
most celebrated scions of these noble houses. He was
through his grandmother. Lady Henrietta, daughter of
the fourth Earl of Aberdeen, a lineal descendant of that
George, Marquess of Huntly, the Cavalier Leader, who was
captured by an abuse of safe conduct and beheaded by
the Covenanters. They offered him his life and his lands
if he would turn against the King, but he answered them
just as one can picture Adam Lindsay Gordon answering
them in a like situation.^ And, through Lady Henrietta,
he sprang from her great-grandfather, Charles Mordaunt,
the famous Earl of Peterborough, a conunander as dashing
on land as Nelson or Cochrane at sea, the capturer of
Barcelona, whose exploits inspired one of Macaulay's
Essays. The fiery Peterborough is just the ancestor one
would have imBgined for Gordon. Lord George Gordon
of the no-Popery Riots was Lady Henrietta's cousin. Less
appropriately, Adam Ferguson the philosopher, and
^ The reply of Qeoige Gordon, second Marquifl of Huntly (having been
made prisoner when under safe oondnot to certain noblemen of the
Goreiuuiters), dated April ^0, 1639—
'* To be your prisoner is by mnoh the less displeasing to me that my
acouaation is for nothing else but loyalty, and that I have been brought
into UoB estate by such unfair means as can never be made appear honour-
able in those who used them. Whereas you offer me liberal conditions
upon my entering into your covenant, I am not so bad a merchant as to
bay it with Uie loss of my conscience, fidelity and honour, which, in so doinff,
I diould account to be wholly peikhed. I have already given my faith
to my Prince, from whose head me crown by all laws of nature and nations
is unjustly fallen, and will not falsify that faith by joining with any in a
mtonce of religion, which my judgement cannot excuse from rebellion,
for *tis well known that in the primitive church no arms were held lawful
being lifted by subjects against their lawful prince, tho* the whole frame of
dixManity was then in question. . . . For my own part I am in your
power Mid not resolved to leave the foul title of traitor as an inheritance
on my posterity. Tou may take my head from my shoulders, but not
my heart from my sovereign."
xxiv THE PREFACE
Thomas Bowdler, who Gnindyised Shakespeare, come
into his pedigree, and so do the Gordon who died at
Pinkie, and the Gordon who was out in the Forty-Five.
I must not oonchide without expressing our thanks to
those not ahready mentioned, who have given us such
valuable help in the preparation of this book — ^many of
them, like Gordon, Mr. Pickemell and myself, O.C.'s,
that is, men educated at Cheltenham CoUege. These
O.C.'s include Mr. A. A. Hunter, O.C., Bursar and Secretary
of Cheltenham College, known to all Cheltonians as the
chief benefactor of the school, who is the authority I have
consulted on all points connected with Gordon's residence
at the CoU^fe; the late Lord James of Hereford, O.C. ;
Lord Morley of Blackburn, O.C; Lord Loreburn, O.C;
Col. Arthur Lang, R.E., O.C and Col. Kendal CoghiU,
O.C, two of the stormers of Delhi in the Mutiny; Col.
Cuncliffe Martin, CB., O.C. and Mrs. Cunliffe Martin;
Mr. H. H. Hornby, O.C. ; Mr. W. de S. Filgate, O.C and
Mrs. Filgate ; General Cardew, R.E., O.C ; Capt. Vaughan,
O.C; the late Archdeacon Robeson, O.C; Mr. W. L.
Newman, O.C. ; the Rev. Reginald Broughton, O.C. ; Mr.
R. W. Raper, O.C, of Oxford.
To these must be added Commander Baker, R.N. ; the
Marquess of Ailesbury ; Lord Coventry ; Lord Beauchamp ;
Lord Tredegar ; Lord Fitzhardinge ; Lady Massarene and
Ferrard, Whyte Melville's daughter; Mr. Leslie Balfour
Melville ; the late Frederick Marshall of Cheltenham ; his
daughter, Mrs. Villars; Mr. George Stevens of Derby,
son of the great steeplechase-rider; Mr. A. Holman,
the well-known trainer of Prestbury, and his brother;
Mr. Stephen Miles; Mr. Andrew Page; the Rev. Robert
Tanner and Miss Mary Tanner, and Mr. Charles Jessop
of Cheltenham ; Mr. Whittard ; Miss Sidebottom of
Worcester ; Mr. Baker and Mr. Maddick of the lUuatraUd
Sporting and Dramatic News; the Editor of Bailtfs
Magazine ; the Editor of the Badminton Magazine ;
the Editor of The Graphic; Sir J. Langdon Bonjrthon,
THE PREFACE xxv
editor of the {South AuHralian) Advertiser; Mr. W. J.
Sowden, editor of the (South Australian) Register; the
Editors of the Argus and the Australasian at Melbourne;
the Editors of the Sydney Morning Herald^ the Sydney
Bulletin and The Lone Hand ; Mr. Bertram Stevens ; the
Editor of the Queenslander ; Mr. T. S. Townend, Mr.
Gough and Mr. GuUett of the London offices of the
MeJboume Argus and Australasian and Sydney Morning
Herald ; Mr. W. E. Robinson of the London office of the
{South Australian) Advertiser ; Mr. George Norman, late
editor, and Mr. Sawyer, the present editor of The Cheltenham
Examiner; Mr. Crawford, editor of The Cheltenham
Looker-On; and the Editor of the Worcester Herald^ all
of whom have given untiring help ; Mr. Dunn of the Free
Library at Cheltenham; Mr. Duckworth, librarian of the
Victoria Institute at Worcester; Mr. W» Scarth Dixon,
Mr. Finch Mason and Col. Yardley, the well-known
sporting authorities; Mr. Chomley, editor of the British
Australasian; the Hon. J. G. Jenkins, late Premier of
South Australia ; the Hon. Sir John McCall, Agent-General
of Tasmania; Sir Henry Geary; Lieut. -Col. C. H. Owen;
Col. Ashbourne ; Mr. C. E. I. Esdaile ; the Rev. Mr. Esdaile
of Battersea; Mr. Arundell Esdaile; Mr. Andrew Kerr;
Mr. Russell Kerr; Mr. John Randall and Mr. Bentley
of Worcester; Mrs. Lees of Worcester, who inspired
Gordon's one romance; Miss Shenton and Mrs. Turk of
Cheltenham, connected with Gordon's acting in amateur*
theatricals ; Mrs. Austen, a daughter-in-law of Black Tom
Oliver; Mr. Clifford Canning, a master at Marlborough
College; Monsignor Nolan, cousin of the Captain Nolan
of Balaclava fame; Father Thomas of Cheltenham; the
late Mr. Holland of Prestbury, who knew Tom Oliver
and the other great steeplechasers, and often noticed
Gordon going to Tom Oliver's house; Mr. J. R. Boos£,
Secretary of the Royal Colonial Institute; Mr. P. Evans
Lewin, librarian of the Royal Colonial Institute; Mrs.
Slade, relative of Mr. Etienne de Mestre, the famous race-
xxvi THE PREFACE
horse owner in Australia; Mrs. M. M. Lovegrove; Mrs.
E. W. Boake ; Mrs. MacDougall ; Mrs. £. A. Lauder, who,
as Elizabeth Bright, was one of Gordon's oldest and most
intimate friends, and had at least one poem written to
her by him, and gave the wattle-tree which is planted over
his grave ; Mrs. Makin of Mount Monster, South Australia,
who knew him in his horse-breaking days; Miss Annie
Holtze of Womop Avenue, Adelaide, South Australia ; the
Rev. Edward Isaac of the Cecil St. Baptist Church,
Williamstown, Melbourne; Mrs. Wilfred Blacket; Mrs.
W. Hey Sharp ; Mrs. J. A. Fergusson, whose husband was
A.D.C. to his brother, Sir James Fergusson, in South
Australia at the time of Gordon's death ; the Head Masters
of the Royal Grammar School at Worcester and the King's
School at Canterbury; Mr. John J. Harding; Dr. Pollard
of Worcester ; Mr. C. S. Jerram ; Capt. Mackay, adjutant
of the R.M.A., Woolwich; Mr. Charles Marshall; Mr.
Elwes; Mr. Barron; Mr. Harry Webb, and Mr. Gordon
Bridges of Adelaide, a kinsman of the poet.
A portrait of Capt. Nolan, who brought the order for
the charge of the Light Brigade at Balaclava, is given
with a good deal about his connection with some of
Gordon's sporting poems, and the illustrations generally
form a very important feature in the book. They include
several portraits of Gordon himself, among them the
inimitable caricature of Gordon on ^' Cadger," which forms
the frontispiece, drawn by one of the officers in the 14th
Regiment, when he was staying with them in their barracks
at Melbourne, and stolen by him in such an amusing way
(see p. 449) ; the daguerreotype of Gordon which he sent
home at the time of his marriage, from which most of the
dean-shaven portraits of Gordon have been faked; the
famous portrait with a beard, drawn by Sir Frank
Madden on the racecourse at Flemington; and several
sketches of Gordon on horseback, drawn by himself.
There are in all a dozen or two of Gordon's sketches,
which, if not of great value from the artistic point of
THE PREFACE xxvii
view, are some of them rich in humour, and others
admirable in catching the attitudes of a steeplechasing
horse.
Australians will welcome the unique series of photo-
graphs of the Knoverton steeplechase course, the real
scenery of ** How We Beat the Favourite," with the brook
and the wall and the fence with stone-coping, taken to
accompany the description of the course, which forms one
chapter. Boxers will be interested in the photograph
of the mantelpiece into which Gordon knocked Jem
Edwards, stunning him.
There are pictures of Gordon's homes in Cheltenham
and Gordon's homes in Adelaide and Dingley Dell; of
Mrs. Gordon, given for the first time in any book ; of Jane
Bridges ; of Miss Frances Gordon and Gordon's father and
unde; of Gordon's Leap and Gordon's grave; of Sweet
St. Mary's and Trinity Church, Cheltenham, where all his
relatives were buried; and of Cheltenham College, where
be became a pupil on its opening day and his father a
master five years afterwards. There are portraits of the
great steeplechasers who were Gordon's friends when he
was learning to ride in the Cotswolds ; of Tom Oliver and
Hard-riding Bob (Chapman); George Stevens and *'Mr.
Thomas " ; and a photograph of the famous letter which
Black Tom Oliver wrote to George Stevens to tell him how
to ride '^ The Colonel " in the Grand National — advice which
is given almost identically in Gordon's poem, ** How We
Beat the Favourite," though it was published before
Stevens rode ** The Colonel " to victory. Bushmen wiU feel
inclined to tear this letter out and frame it, as they well
might the reproductions of the speaking oil-paintings of
George Stevens on *^ The Colonel " and Tom Oliver on
** Birmingham." But none exceeds in interest the repro-
duction in his own handwriting of Gordon's letter to his
uncle, a letter full of his life in Australia in his happy,
hopeful days.
The more one writes about Gordon the more one loves
xxviii THE PREFACE
him. He was so sincere, so imbued with the stern
heroism which distinguished his immortal namesake and
classmate. Wild liver that he had been in his boyhood,
dashing steeplechase-rider that he was in his prime, he
too had in his veins the sanguis mariyrum. Familiarity
with death is the birthright of those Cocks of the North,
the Gay Gordons.
Douglas Sladen.
The Avenue House,
Richmond, Surrey^
July 9, 1912.
PRINCIPAL DATES IN THE LIVES OF ADAM
LINDSAY GORDON AND HIS FATHER
FBIHOIFAL DATB8 IN THB UFS OT (JAPTAIN A. D. OOBDON
(Taken £rom advanced proofs of Gonstanoe Oliver Skelton's
great book, The Qordons under Arms, p. 16.)
Adam Dnmford Gfordon, son of Captain WiUiam Gordon, R.E.
Bom Ang. 22, 1796, and baptized at Ardersier, Inverness. Edu-
cated at Sandhurst. His military career ran thus —
1814. July 28. Ensign 3rd West India Reg. and 47th Foot.
1816u March. On half-pay.
1817. Nov. Applied to the War Office for permission to live in the East
Indies for an unlimited period ; and petitioned the East India Go.
for the Bengal Gadetship to which he was nominated by the
Hon. Hugh Lindsay.
1818. Eneign 20th Native Infantry.
1819. Sept. 28. Lieutenant 12th Native Infantry.
1820« Jan. 12. Granted twelve months' leave to study in the College at
Fort William.
1821. Jan. 28. Granted twelve months* leave to remain at the College.
1822. D.A.Q.M.G. until Nov. 4; appointed Adjutant to 1st battalion,
Dec. 9.
1823. Jan. 16. Exchanged to Interpreter and Quartermaster, having
obtained Medals of Merit for Native Languages.
1824. July. Examiner at the College, Fort William.
1827. April 7. Went to England on sick leave in charge of invalids.
1829. Sept. 12. He married at Paris, his first cousin, Harriet Elizabeth,
only child of Robert Gordon, Governor of Berbice.
1831. Jan. 12 and July 20. Requested to make immediate application
for extension of leave of absence. Aug. 31. Requested permis-
sion to resign. Sept. 7. Accepted. 1831. Went to reside at
Fayal in the Azores.
1831. Nov. 12. His half-pay in the 47th Foot (in which his grandfather,
David, had served at Prestonpans) was cancelled, and he got the
commuted allowance of £300.
1840. Returned to England and settled in Cheltenham.
1844. June. Applied for an appointment as Barrack Master, and, on
the recommendation of his distant kinsman. Lord Aberdeen,
his name was added to the waiting list of candidates.
1846u IVofessor of Oriental Languages at Cheltenham College ; where he
compiled a Hindustani grammar.
xxix
XXX PRINCIPAL DATES
1857. June 16. He died at Cheltenham.
In a letter to Colonel Lord Fitzroy Somerset, dated Woroester,
Aug. 29» 1831, he states, ** My father, grandfather, brothen, six
unoles and all their sons, twenty of us, have all been brought up
for the Army, and half of these have been killed or died in foreign
oountriee or on foreign service.^' Only seven of these soldiers,
however, have been identified. Captain Gordon may, however,
have included relatives with other surnames than that of Gordon.
PBIHOIFAL DATSS IN THB UFB OT ADAM LIKDSA7 GORDON
(Compiled by Douglas Sladen)
1816. Hia father A. D. Gordon went to West Indies as Ensign. Changed
to E.LC. service} fought in Burma, etc.; invalided back to
England 1825. Manied his cousin Harriet 1829.
1833. Lindsay Gordon bom in the Azores, Oct 19th.
1841. Cheltenham College founded. Lindsay one of the first boys.
1842. Lindsay left the College.
1848. At age of 15, Lindsay learns to ride from George Beeves.
1848. Lindsay goes to Woolwich till 1861.
1862. Meets Jane Bridges, now Mrs. Lees.
1862. Forces LaUah Rookh*s stable.
1852. March 25. Rides her in the Berkeley Hunt Cup.
1862. Sept. 23. Wins a race on Louisa, late Lallah Rookh.
1863. Aug. 7. Lindsay goes to Australia after parting with Jane Bridges.
1853. Wrote '' Across the Trackless Seas I go *' (To my Sister) and '' The
Ocean Heaves around us still ** (An Eidle's Farewell).
1853. Nov. 14. Lindsay arrives in Adelaide.
1853. Nov. Joined South Australian Mounted Police.
1855. Nov. Resigned from it.
1855. Becomes a horse-breaker and shares hut with William Trainor.
1855. Meets Tenison Woods, who lends him books.
Between 1855 and 1862, begins to win a few races on his own horses.
1859. Aug. 6. The Adtnetta wrecked, near Cape Northumberland.
1862. Oct. Gordon marries Maggie Park.
1864. Inherito £7,000.
1864. Publishes " The Feud " in book form at Mount Gambier.
1865. Jan. 5. Receives a deputation asking him to stand for Parliament.
1865. Jan. 12. GUves his first address at Mount Gambier.
1865. March 16. Elected to Parliament for the Victoria District of South
Australia.
1865. April. Third on Ballarat to Ldgleside and Blueskin in Great Western
Steeplechase, Coleraine.
1865. MayM23. Takes his seat in Parliament. Rents a cottage at Glenelg.
1865. Commences his friendship with John Riddooh.
June 6. Makes a speech in Parliament about the renewals of the
annual leases.
PRINCIPAL DATES xxxi
1S65. Wrote *' Vuioiis in the Smoke from my old Clay Pipe."
1M5. Aug. 1 to Sept. 9. Trains Mr. J. C. James's Cadger.
1866. Sept. 20. Wins the Adelaide Grand National on Premier.
1865. Deo. Makes a trip to Victoria and wins the Ballarat Steeplechase
on Ballarat,
1866. Jan. 1. Takes Cadger to Melhoume. Does not win the steeplechase.
1866. April. Beaten twice at Ballarat on Cadger. Third on Cadger in
Great Western Steeplechase at Coleraine.
1866. Sept. 18. Second on Hector in Adelaide Annual Steeplechase.
1866. Oct. Writes Fytte I, " By Wood and Wold," and Fytte II, " By
Flood and Field," of Ye Wearie Wayfarer.
1866. Nov. Wrote Fytte HI, ** Zu der Edlen Jagd," and Fytte IV,
" In Utramque Paratus," of Te Wearie Wayfarer.
1866. Nov. 10. Published Fytte V, " Lex Talionis," and Fytte VI,
" Potter's Clay."
Nov. 17. Wrote Fytte VII, " Cito Pede Ftoterit ^tas."
1866. Nov. 24. Brought out Fytte VIII, *' Finis ExopUtos."
1866. Nov. 28. Resigns from Parliament.
1866. Published two pieces of Hippodramania^'* The Fields of Coleraine "
and *' Credat Jud»us Apella."
1866. The Auttrakuian was founded. Gordon published **The Old
Leaven " in it anonjrmously.
1867. Jan. Wrote ** Thy Voice in my Ear still Mingles," at first called
" Frustra," afterwards introduced as a song into AMaroifh.
1867. Gave up his cottage at Glenelg and went back to live at Mount
Gambier, on literature and the wreck of his means.
1867. April 20. Published the " Banker's Dream."
1867. April. Second on Cadger to Ingleside in Grand National Steeple-
chase at Ballarat.
1867. Aug. 3. Wrote " Ex Fomo dare Lucem."
1867. Aug. Contributed to the Australasian " Whither Bound T " after-
wards called " Quare Fatigasti."
1867. Sept. Published the volume called Sea Spray and Smoke Drift
(George Robertson, Melbourne). 1867, or early in 1868, published
Ashiaroih in book form (Qaraon and Massina).
1867. Oct. Third on Merrimac, Hunt Club Handicap. Second on Cadger,
Great Bfetropolitan Steeplechase, Flemiugton.
1867. Took the livery stobles of Craig's Hotel, Ballarat.
1867. Deo. Thud on Cadger, Ballarat Steeplechase.
1868. May. Nowhere on Viking in the Ballarat Steeplechases.
1868. July. Has his head smashed in against the post at the door of
his stables.
1868. Joins the Ballarat troop of light Horse.
1868. Sept Third on Maude, Hunt Steeplechase, Ballarat. Won Selling
Steeplechase on Cadger.
1868. Oct. 10. Wins three steeplechases in one day at Melbourne.
1868. Nov. Won V.R.C. Steeplechase on Viking.
xxxii PRINCIPAL DATES
1868. Ooi. and Nov. Gordon stays with Robert Power.
He begins to take a dislike to racing.
1868. Oot. or Nov. Gordon writes " A Song of Autumn."
1868. Dec. ''Doubtful Dreams'' published in the Colonial Monthly,
edited by Marcus Clarke.
1868. The Colonial Monthly prophesies Gordon's fame as a poet.
1868. Dec. Stays with Major Baker, and the officers of the lith Regi-
ment in their barracks.
1868. Dec. 5. Wins the Ballarat Steeplechase with Babbler.
1868. Reoeires a letter from England to tell him that he is heir to
Esslemont.
1869. Jan. 1. Third on Babbler to his own (or R. Power's) horse. Viking,
and Ballarat in Grand National at Flemington.
1869. Jan. Goes to stay a month with the Riddochs at Tallum.
1869. Jan. Writes at Yallum '* The Sick Stockrider,*' published a year
later; *' How we Beat the Favourite," published a month later;
" From the Wreck," and "Wolf and Hound."
1869. Feb. 14. Wrote " A Basket of Flowers " for Miss Riddoch to send
with flowers to her aunt.
1869. March 27. Wins Autumn Steeplechase (Flemington) on Babbler;
second next day on Babbler to Ingleside.
1869. March. Nowhere on Union in Geelong Steeplechase, won by
Ingleside.
1869. In the winter goes, with his wife, to lodge at Middle Brighton, with
Mr. Higginbotham's gardener, Kelly.
1869 or 1870. " The Sick Stockrider " (and " Doubtful Dreams ") pub-
lished in the Colonial Monthly and copied into the AustrtUaiian.
1869. June. Won Maiden Steeplechase at Canlfield on Maid of the
Warman.
1869 or 1870. Gordon joins the Yorick Qub.
1869. Oct. Fourth on E. G. Blackman's Launoelot for first Hunt Qub
Cup in Adelaide.
1869. Nov. Nowhere on Prince Rupert, V.R.C. Spring Steeplechase;
second on Prince Rupert in Ballarat Steeplechase.
1869. Grordon begins to take steps to assert his claim to the Esslemont
estate.
1869. Gordon writes his poem " Argemone " for Miss Riddoch's album.
1870. Joins the Brighton Artillery Corps and takes up rifle shooting.
1870. Jan. Gordon receives news that the entail has never been broken.
1870. March 12. Gordon is twice badly thrown from Major Baker's
Prince Rupert at Melbourne, in steeplechase won by Dutchman.
1870. A strong friendship springs up between Gordon and Kendall.
1870. News comes that the Esslemont entail has been swept away.
1870. June 23. Bush Ballads and Galloping Rhymes are printed off.
Gordon is shown the proof of KendalPs two columns in the
Australasian, Gordon spends the day till tea-time with Kendall.
1870. June 24. Gordon goes out at daybreak and shoots himself in the
scrub at Brighton.
a • • • • •
• • • • •
J J J ■» tf ■ <
•
n
s J
s
N
CHAPTER I
THE LIFE OF ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
(By DouolcM Sladen only)
Adam Lindsay Gordon, the Byron of Australia, is
one of the most romantic figures in Literature. A Scottish
gentleman, belonging to an ancient and illustrious family,
he went to Australia in the wild old Colonial days and
extorted the admiration of the wildest by his splendid
horsemanship and dauntless courage. He was the most
famous steeplechaser as well as the most famous poet that
Australia has known. His exploits were such that any
of his poems might be autobiographical and, to end eveiy-
thing, he died by his own hand before he was thirty-seven —
the age fatal to Genius.
Everything we know of him was appropriate to the
poems he wrote. He was qualified to write about horses
because he had been a horse-breaker, and was the most
noted amateur steeplechaser in Australia. He was qualified
to write about the Bush because he had been a Bushman
for years in the old pioneering days ; he was qualified to
write in a heroic vein because from his boyhood he had
been willing to fight any man with his fists, or take any
risks. He was qualified to write in the Byronic vein be-
cause of his attitude to life. And he was qualified to
write their philosophy for the grim, manful Australians,
because he was such a grim, manful man as years
advanced.
Romance was Crordon's birthright. He was sprung
from the false Gordon, who perhaps gave this lordly race
their baUad epithet — ^the Adam of Gordon in Berwickshire,
who founded the fortunes of his house; the trusted
2 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
henchman of King Edward the First, whose timely
desertion to the Bruce was rewarded with the broad lands
in Aberdeenshire which have remained the patrimony of
the Gordons.
This was at the dawn of the fourteenth century, and most
heads of the family from that day to the poet's bore the
fine old name of Adam. The Adam of Gordon of the
ballad — ^Edom o' Gordon — ^was a brother of the then earl
of Huntly, who in 1571 burned a lady of the house of
Forbes in her castle for refusing to surrender. Many an
ancestor of Gordon laid down his life for the Scottish crown.
One ancestor died at Pinkie, the fatal battle before the gates
of Edinburgh where the English routed the Scotch early in
the same century. Another, the second Marquess of
Huntly, went to the block for his King more finely than
the great Marquess Montrose himself. Another was out
in the Forty-Five and lost his lands for Prince Charlie,
though they were restored. His great-grandmother was
the notorious Lady Henrietta (rordon, the wild daughter
of the second Earl of Aberdeen, and cousin of the yet
wilder Lord George and Lord William (rordon. His father
had been a famous horseman and sportsman in India. His
mother, daughter of the (rovemor of Berbice, was heiress to
a vast estate till the abolition of slavery destroyed the
properties of the Spanish Main.
When she first comes into our ken, before she was married
to Gordon's father, she was living with the Hon. Hugh
Lindsay and his wife, who received a thousand a year
for her maintenance and education. Miss Gordon tells
us that she had two governesses and was indulged in
every extravagance — ^and also that Mrs. Gordon of Hall-
head, the wife of the head of the family, had been asked
first to take charge of her when she was left an orphan.
Hugh Lindsay was a son of the fifth Earl of Balcarres, and
a director of the East Lidia Company and a China merchant.
He married the daughter of Lord Rockville, a Lord of
Session, who was the brother of Lady Henrietta Gordon,
THE LIFE OF GORDON 8
grandmother of both the father and mother of the poet. So
that Mis. Lindsay was a first cousin once removed of her
charge. Adam Lindsay Gordon was doubtless named Lindsay
after Hugh or his wife. Very likely one of them was a
sponsor at his baptism. It would be interesting if it were
Hugh Lindsay, and it would have been stiU more interesting
if it could have been his sister, Lady Anne Lindsay, who
married Andrew Barnard, for that would have made Gordon
the godson of another poet, since Lady Anne was the author
of '^ Auld Robin Gray." She, too, was connected with
the Colonies, for she was one of the first members of the
aristocracy to settle in them. She and her husband lived
in Cape Colony, and she has left us delightful memoirs on
the subject.
Lady Henrietta, Gordon's great-grandmother, daughter
of the second Earl of Aberdeen, who married the Laird
of Billhead, was famous for her escapades, but they were
nothing to the escapades of her cousins Lord George and
Lord William Gordon. Lord George's chief escapade, the
No-Popery Riot, is a matter of history. Lord William, son
of the Duke of Gordon, ran away with the married daughter
of the Duke of Richmond (the two titles have since coal-
esced). Lady Sarah Bunbury.
Lady Sarah Bunbury (bom Lady Sarah Lennox) was
one of the most romantic figures in history. She was so
beautiful as a girl that King Gkorge III used to pay clande-
stine court to her to be his Queen. But he was persuaded
into a more constitutional courtship and in due time Lady
Sarah married Sir Charles Bunbury. Lord WiUiam
Gordon, brother of Lord George, persuaded her to bolt with
him, but she was so lovely that her stooping to folly did
not extinguish her socially. She married for her second
husband one of the Ettrick Napiers, the Hon. George, and
by him became the modem Cornelia — ^the mother of the
Napieis.
Lady Henrietta inherited her name, and probably her
adventurousness, from her grandmother^ who was the
B2
4 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
daughter of that Paladin of the eighteenth century, the
great Earl of Peterborough, who immortalised himself
by his victories in Spain. He was thus the poet's direct
ancestor.
One more noble kinsman of Adam Lindsay Gordon
must be mentioned — Sir Arthur Hamilton Gordon, who
became Lord Stanmore. He was very well known in
Australasia, having been Governor of Fiji 1875-1880, and
New Zealand 1880-1882. Being son of the fourth Earl
of Aberdeen he was a Scotch cousin of the Adam Lindsay
Gordon who was not considered sufficiently a gentleman
to ride for the Ladies' Purse at Penola— -or some smaller
place.
But beyond having a common ancestor, a Gordon of
Gicht in the early Middle Ages, Gordon does not seem to
have had the responsibility of being related to Lord Byron,
though the arms and mottoes of the (rordons of Gicht and
Hallhead show a closer connection than is usual for
Gordons.
That was his breeding, the son of an ancient Scottish
house, who should have been bom to great wealth ; bom,
therefore, with extravagant, aristocratic instincts.
The place of his birth was not less romantic. Out in
the Atlantic, like the outposts of a lost continent, for half
the length of Africa, ride little groups of forttmate islands,
perhaps the Fortunate Islands or the Hesperides of the
Ancients. At any rate the orange, the golden apple of
the Hesperides, floods them with its groves — ^the Azores
even more than the sister groups of Madeira, Cape de Verde
and Grand Canary.
At Fayal in the Azores Captain Gordon had gone to live,
for wounds and fever in him, some constitutional infirmity
in his wife, demanded the anodynes of rest and an Elysian
climate. We have a picture of the home into which Adam
Lindsay Gordon was bom, and of his childhood, taken by
Turner and Sutherland, in The Development of Australian
Literaiurey from his father's letters. It was in 1880, when
THE LIFE OF GORDON 5
they rented a " roomy and quaintly-furnished house amid
the vineyards of Fayal."
**A most lovdy spot this must have been wherein to
pass a childhood. From the sunny windows of the
house, set upon a hill» could be seen the whole of the
island — for nowhere is it six miles long — a mass of
verdure, whose tmdulating vineyards were marked with
clumps of darker green, where myrtles and orange trees
half hid and half revealed the snowy walls of Spanish
cottages. All the lanes and roads of the island are de-
scribed in the captain's letters as bosomed deep in luxurious
roses. Here and there a jutting crag of naked rock fronted
its ruddy face to the sim, which set among the grey haze
that showed where sister-islets were lifting up their cliffs
and their hill tops far away on the western Atlantic. In
one of his letters Captain Gordon bursts forth : * The
distant hills and valleys seem to me like the blessed regions
of hcdiness, never blighted by frosts nor withered by the
too fervid sunbeam, but fragrant with verdant pastures
and everlasting roses.' In the evening, when, from the
nnnnery in the little white-washed village down below,
the Angeius rose amid the still and perfumed breath of
the tropic, the twilight shades must have very gently
gathered round the bright little boy as he was simg to sleep
in an airy nursery, whose windows overlooked the broken
diffs and the splash of ocean."
In the third year his father's letters give this passing
g^pse of him : '* A sweet little fellow he is : indeed, I
think him almost too pretty. Very slight and upright,
carrying his little curly head well back, and almost swagger-
ing along. He talks with a sweet, full, laughing voice, and
a face dimpled and bright as the morning. He is seen here,
periiaps, to too great an advantage, in very light clothing,
scampering amid the large and airy play-rooms. We
have just finished the joyous vintage, after a summer of
extraordinary beauty, and the delicious baskets of grapes
have rained upon us for these two months."
6 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
What a contrast to his wild youth, and the stem struggles
of his manhood in Australia ! How almost impossible to
picture that sunny child, thirty-three years later, just as
the massed guns of France and Germany were preparing
to devastate the vineyards of the Rhine with the great
war, lying with his face to the sky, the victim of his own
rash hand as he had anticipated in ^^ De Te."
*' We heard the hound beneath the mound,
We scared the swamp hawk hovering nigh —
We had not sought for that we found —
He lay as dead men only lie,
With wan oheek whitening in the sky,
Through the wild heath flowers, white and red.
The dumb brute that had seen him die.
Close orouehing, howFd beside the head
Brute burial service o'er the dead."
In such a spot, cut off from all the cares of the world,
wealthy for such an environment, one might have
prophesied for him, even if he were blasted with poetic
fire, the placid meditative existence of a Wordsworth or a
Browning. But his mother, who was brought up as a
spoilt child and remained one to the day of her death,
insisted on moving first to Madeira, where they had another
home as lovely, and, when Lindsay was seven years old,
to Cheltenham, renowned among veterans retreating from
the East for its soft climate, and its eastern luxuriance of
green. That was about 1840.
Those were great days in Cheltenham. The veterans,
who had gone there to spend the evening of their days,
after conquering provinces in India, had made up their
minds to found a school for boys of gentle birth, to obviate
their sending their boys to the great old public schools, from
Winchester, founded in 1887, to Dulwich, founded in 1619.
Captain Gordon put his boy down for the new school,
though he was only seven years old, and the County, and
the cider counties round, sent their quotas including a
little boy called Henry James from Hereford, who made
a mistake and arrived a day too soon, and who was thus
2 ft!
SuO
• • •
•• •••
^ ^ m ^
• • • •■
• • •
• • •
• • • »
• •• •
•:
*.\ * • . •
• • •• •
ft •
•• •
THE LIFE OF GORDON 7
the first boy to enter Cheltenham College, as he was the
first Englishman many years after to refuse the dishonour
of being Lord High Chancellor^ against his principles,
Lindsay only remained about a year at the college
then. Perhaps his father saw that a boy of his tender
8ge was rather out of place and had better be sent else-
where for a time. It was not now» but after he left Chelten-
ham a second time in 1851, that Lindsay lived for a year or
more with his unde at Worcester and went with his cousins
to receive private tuition from Canon Temple, who was
at that time headmaster of the Royal Grammar School.
Lindsay was never on the books of this school.^ Canon
Temple was evidently a man of discrimination, for he has left
it on record that he considered the boy a genius, and certain
to make his mark in the world. Lindsay was a cadet at
the Royal Bfihtary Academy at Woolwich from 1848 to 1851.
That stay at Worcester had important results, because
it was there apparently that the Lallah Rookh episode hap-
pened, and there that he made the acquaintance of two of the
people whom he loved best before he went out to Australia,
^ The present headmaater of the Grammar School says that this ia a
mistake.
Royal Ofwnmar Schoolf
" Worcester,
June 22nd, 1912.
DkabSib,
landsay Gordon was here when Canon Temple was headmaster.
He was an ordinary member of the school bat not on the Foundation.
13ie H.1L in those days was paid en bloc for educating fifty boys on the
Fonndation and allowed to take as many other pupils as he liked at fees
-Hihese additional members of the school being sometimes called the
ElL's private pupils, but they attended in the same way as the boys on
the Foundation and were under the same discipline and were members of
the school.
" Yours faithfully,
"J. A. HiLLABD, Headmaster.'*
And adds, in a letter dated July 6th, 1912—
"I can find no record of Gordon having been expelled from the school.
It is probably apoeiyphal in view of and (7) in support of his later
«
11
8 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Charley Walker, the friend to whom most of the letters
quoted in this volume were written, and Miss Jane Bridges,
who comes into most of them, and was the romance of his
life. His stay in Worcester is also of great importance to
this book, because the people whom he knew there. Miss
Bridges, for whom he offered to give up going to Australia ;
the Misses Sidebottom, very pretty girls, who were the
favourite playmates of Captain R. C. H. Gordon's family, and
Miss Frances Gordon herself, who was a child when Lindsay
lived with her family, are all alive and have lively recol-
lections of the poet's youth, and Chariey Walker's daughters
kept a dozen or two of Lindsay Gordon's letters to their
father which they have allowed to be reproduced in this
volume. One or two business men in the city of Worcester,
who do not wish their names to be mentioned, have also
supplied valuable reminiscences. The poet is better
remembered in Worcester than in Cheltenham.
Li that period,^ between 1842 and 1848, the inevitable
had happened. Mrs. Gordon had grown tired of Chelten-
ham and had taken to spending most of her time on the
Continent, narrowing Captain Gordon's means by her
extravagances till he was constrained to go into harness
again. A place was found for him at the College in 1846
as Professor of Oriental Languages. And this he continued
to hold till his death, more than ten years later.
Captain Adam Dumford Gordon, father of the immortal
Adam Lindsay Gordon, is a pleasant figure to contonplate.
He was very tall, very aristocratic-looking, very gentle,
proof against the heartlessness, the restlessness, the tempers
and the freaks of his wife, just as he continued to love his
son and be proud of him in spite of the escapades that half-
disgraced his name and half-emptied his pockets. All
the boys who worked under him and stUl survive, give
descriptions of him which suggest that he was just such
^ This is the period of the poet's life of which we have no record. But
as he told Tenison Woods that he had spent some time in France, that
may account for part of it.
THE LIFE OF GORDON 9
another as Thackeray's Colonel Newcome. Yet in his
salad days, before his mother, to keep him at home in
England, had made him marry Harriet, the great heiress
of the family, he had established in India a name like his
son's, for dashing sportsmanship and daring.
Cheltenham's Colonel Newcome, the husband of the
gloomy and troublesome heir^s, the father of that pre-
cocious scapegrace, who led the fast life of a man about
town while he was a boy at school, is a romantic, even a
pathetic figure for some future novelist to handle. Some-
where in the world there may still exist those charming
letters of which little bits crop out in biographies of his
&mous son. Captain Gordon died before his son had
rewarded him by winning fame. But if the spirits of the
departed follow events in the scene of their worldly exist-
ence, he would probably be well content with his erratic
son's achievement in the world. For landsay Gordon's
life as well as his poetry was illuminated with heroism.
With Cheltenham the town Gordon's connection was
longer and stronger than with Cheltenham the Great
Public School. He was taken there as a child before he
was eight years old, and his home was always there till he
left for Australia in August, 1858. The Gordons lived first
at Pittville, but afterwards they went to 25, Priory Street.
ffis Cheltenham friendships come a good deal into other
chapters. It is worthy of note that the only College boy
with whom we know that he was intimate was Thomas
Pickemdl ; the famous '' Mr. Thomas," who rode three
winners in the Grand National, and even he is not
mentioned directly in any of Gordon's letters.
At the same time as tl^ poet's father went to the
Collie to be a master, Thomas Durand Baker entered the
CoU^e as a boy. He grew up to be the Major Baker who
in Australia gave Lindsay the mounts which made his
fame as a steeplechaser, and the fatal mount on Prince
Rupert which led to the fall that may have been indirectly
the cause of his death.
10 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
The Lallah Rookh episode, happening at Worcester or
Woolwich, cannot have led to his being expelled from
Woolwich, because he had already left Woolwich in 1851,
and it happened in 1852. In spite of this there is a tradition
in Australia given by Mrs. Lauder in the Melbourne Record
of June 25, 1910.
^^ It is not generally known why Gordon left Cotswold,
England, to live in Australia, but the following is abso*
lutely true, being told by himself to the Bright family.
He was attending a military college and often took part
in amateur race meetings. On one occasion he was first
favourite and his colleagues (or many of them) were backing
his mount; but as the day drew nigh the horse^s owner
gave orders that the animal was not to be taken out of the
stable. Young Gordon was disappointed and rather sore
for his friends' sake, and listening to unwise counsel, went
to the stable, took the horse, rode and won the race, only
to find the owner and a policeman watching for him as he
dismoimted after passing the winning post. It was with
some difficulty his father kept him from the clutches of
the law, but it ended in Gordon being sent out to South
Australia. It is evident that he never got over the
humiUation. That he considered he was harshly treated is
seen in these lines to his sister —
''My parents bid me oroBs the flood, etc."
We know more of Gordon's cadet days than we know
of his college days, for in the many chapters which relate
to his life at Cheltenham there is hardly a word of what
he did inside the walls of the school. We know that he
was on the Modem side during his second sojourn there,
and that there was a chance which was not realised of his
being given a nomination to Addiscombe, an institution
similar to the Royal Military College at Sandhurst to-day.
We know that there is no record of his having p£tid any fees
after he was readmitted to Cheltenham College in 1851,
and we know that he was not expelled from Cheltenham,
because Mr. A. A. Hunter, the Bursar and historian of
THE LIFE OF GORDON 11
the College, has been carefully through all the mmutes
about boys who have been expelled and finds no mention
of his name.^ This is negative information enough about
the alumnus, whose name may last longer than any other
Cheltonian's. But the scantiness of record about his
actual career at the College is to some extent compensated
by the fact that we know so much of his doings and his
circle on Cheltenham steeplechase courses, and in con-
nection with the noble art of self-defence in the town, and
because he was not only a Cheltenham College boy, but
the son of a Cheltenham College master, who was one
of the most picturesque figures in the history of
the school. Adam Lindsay Gordon's youth belongs to
Cheltenham.
We are none the less grateful that we know more about
his cadet days at Woolwich. Most of our information
there comes from one soiirce. One of the best volumes
of military reminiscences which has appeared during the
last generation, was Gunner Jingo's Jubilee^ the story
of an Artilleryman's service all over the Empire, written
by General Thomas Bland Strange, the ^^ Long Tom " of
cadet days at Woolwich. By a singular piece of good
fortune General Strange was at Woolwich both with
Charley Gordon, the future hero of Khartum, and Lindsay
Gordon, the future laureate of Australia. Both were his
friends and he recorded his reminiscences of both.^
^ Gordon told Tenison Woods that he had been expelled from
some educational institution, but the priest ooold not remember its
name.
* General Gordon, the hero of Khartum, and Adam Lindsay Gordon,
who were at Woolwich together, were great friends, and the General at
any rate believed the poet to be related to him in the liberal Scottish
I have seen this in the General's own handwriting. He presented a
copy of Lindsay Gordon's Poems to General Sir Andrew Garke, R.E.,
who was so long Agent-General for Victoria in London, with the
inscription *' From Charley to Andrew. He was a kind of cousin of mine."
A contemporary of both of them at Woolwich says that Charles, the
hero of Khartum, was *' a sulky little devil at the Shop,^^
12 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
(general Strange remembers Lindsay Gordon very well
— ^he describes him as a bright, amusing, popular boy.
Both Lindsay Gk)rdon and Charles Gordon, the future hero
of Khartum, who were friends as well as contemporaries,
were fond of private theatricals. Greneral Strange himself
was deprived of his swabs, t . e. shoulder-straps, for hitting
Gordon on the head with a long ruler — ^to wake him out of
a reverie, which he supposes to have been a poeUe reverie.
Unf orttmately he drew blood and a foreign master reported
him to the authorities. Gk)rdon himsdf nearly lost his
own swabs as the result of a breach of discipline described
by General Strange. ^^ Gordon was a long time at the
^ Shop ' and had many contemporaries. I was senior to
him. After I left Goidon was a corporal, and was nearly
dismissed for insubordination. The cadets had a habit
of rushing out of study to secure places in the racquet
court. A corporal was put on duty at the bottom of the
stairs to prevent this rush. Gordon charged him head down
and upset him. He was brought before the Commander
and severely spoken to and told that he would never be fit
to be an officer. Gordon tore off his (swabs) corporal's
shoulder straps and threw them at the feet of the
Commandant, who was too wise a judge of character to
turn Gordon out of the service."
It was from Greneral Strange that Major Guggisberg
derived his description of Gordon at the " Shop " —
" Adam Lindsay Gordon, the Australian poet and stock-
rider," Gunner Jingo says, "was the exact opposite of
Charles Gordon — a dreamy lad, with a far-off look in his
eyes, indicative perhaps of the touching and semi-philo-
sophical ballads, so dear to every Austrahan heart (redolent
as they are of fatalism and wattle-blossoms), though
scarcely indicative of the man who beat *the Favourite.* "
One is interested in that Governor of the R.M.A. who
refused to degrade Gordon when he had incurred the
penalty of degradation; who saw the latent greatness
THE LIFE OF GORDON 18
of that wild boy, and had the courage of his convictions.
Khartum Gordon remembered Lindsay all his life, though
his fame was by no means so recognised as it is now.
General Strange'^ contrast of the two famous Gordons
opens up a point of great interest. Here for the first
time since he was a little child in the Azores we get com-
ment upon Lindsay's character, and see him a jolly, dashing,
merry boy, a great favourite with his fellows. That is
the view we get of him from every source except one up
to the time of his leaving England, and that one was the
woman he loved and who would not accept him or give
him any hopes — ^a sufiGiciently good reason for his not being
over-cheerful with her.
It has been stated that Gordon was either expelled from
the Royal Military Academy or that his father was asked
to remove him. There is no means of ascertaining the
reason because the archives of the ^* Shop " during that
period have been destroyed by fire. It has even been
stated that the Lallah Rookh episode happened while he
was at Woolwich and led to his having to leave. Major
Guggisberg suggests that, but he also says that Gordon
returned to Scotland and came to an untimely end on a
Scottish moor; so his testimony is not altogether to be
relied on.
Colour is, however, lent to the theory that Gordon had to
leave Woolwich by the fact that he certainly never had a
commission in the Royal Artillery or the Royal Engineers.
The records of the Royal Regiment and the Corps of Royal
Engineers prove that, and one does not need much intuition
to feel sure that Grordon would have loved to go into the
army like nearly all the men of his family.^
In those days the authorities of the great Public Schools
did not give themselves such airs as they do now-a-days.
Lindsay Gordon was eighteen years old. He had been
^ Mr. John Malcolm Bulloch has prepared a table of the positions
held in the Army and Navy by lindsay Gordon's family, which will be
Coimd on p. 386.
14 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
three years at Woolwich and not improbably had been
compelled to take his name off the books.^ He had
been notorious ever since he was a boy of fifteen for fre-
quenting boxing saloons and training stables. He was
certainly of a very insubordinate nature, and it is not at
all likely that his habits of work were regular. Yet he
was readmitted as a pupil at Cheltenham College, though
the school fee-books do not seem to indicate that he
remained there very long. This was in the year 1851.
It is stated, presumably correctly, that during his second
stay at the College, he was on the Modem side. If this
was so he must have learnt all he ever knew from the
headmaster of the Worcester Royal Grammar School,
because there is no evidence in his poems of any education
except a classical one; though he is said to have known
French and Spanish. But this he might have learned from
^ Mr. A. A. Hunter, the present Bursar, whose name is identified with
Cheltenham College to every old Cheltonian who loves his old School,
went to the College with me in August 1S69 (to the same House, Beaufort
House, on the same day), about a year before poor Gordon shot himself,
so he has given me his help in solving the Gordon question eon amore
He writes —
" My dxab Slabsn, ,
" I'm glad to hear your life of Lindsay Gordon is nearing com-
pletion. It is, of course, impossible now to say how they came to re-admit
him to the College at the age of eighteen, but doubtless they were not so
particular in those days.
"In J. Hewlett Ross's book on Lindsay Gordon he says, ' BEis name
was erased from the list of pupils at Cheltenham for insubordination and
other acts as culpable, etc., etc.* This I believe to be pure fiction, as I
have looked up the Council Minutes of those da3rs in which they kept a
record of any boys who were expelled, and the reasons for their expulsion,
but the name of Lindsay Gordon does not figure anywhere.
" How long exactly he stayed at College after returning in August 1851,
one cannot say, but it does not seem for long, for there were no fees put
i^ainst his name under / Fees for the Midsummer term, 1852,* in the
Fees Book, so be possibly left at the previous Christmas, as the year was
divided into ' halves ' as in our time down to 1873.
" I don*t know that he was expelled from Woolwich either. I have some
recollection of writing there about him some time ago now, and fancy I
must have given Miss Humphris all the information I got at the time.'
u
THE LIFE OF GORDON 16
his mother, who had spent much of her life abroad, though
one can hardly picture her taking so much interest in
him.
Except for the couple of races in which he rode Lallah
Rookh (later Louisa), there is not much to fix the dates
of Gordon's career as a boy man-about-town at Chelten-
ham. It seems to have gone on from the time that he was
fifteen till he went to South Australia at the age of nineteen.
He must have spent some of his time in Cheltenham even
when he was at the Woolwich Academy, because one of
his contemporaries tells us that, when he was only seven-
teen, he was as strong and full-grown as a man and ready
to box with all comers in the booths at race-courses.
Boxing he learned from the middle-weight champion of
England, Jem Edwards, the famous Eftrywig, who had a
boxing saloon at the Roebuck Hotel in the old part of
Cheltenham. Riding he first learnt from George Reeves,
a livery-stable keeper at Cheltenham, who was also one of
the chief backers to find the money for Tom Sayers, the
great prize-fighter, in his contests. Tom Oliver, the trainer
of horses, who trained a Derby winner in George Frederick,
WBs also a trainer of men, and Tom Sayers, I suppose to
be near his backer, trained with him for one of his great
fights. Before this Reeves had introduced Gk)rdon to
Oliver, who took a great fancy to him and gave him mounts,
sometimes even a noted steeplechaser which had to be
ridden with hounds to qualify it for a Hunt Cup. Gordon
on various occasions put on the gloves with Tom Sayers
both at Prestbury, where he was training with Oliver, or
m the boxing saloon of Jem Edwards, who was a great
friend of Tom Sayers. It is recorded that he was **no
mere chopping block for Tom Sayers," though he was still
aaly a boy. What a boy of eighteen can do has been shown
by the marvellous Frenchman Carpentier, who has beaten
the English champion of his weight this year.
The central fact of the foregoing remarks is that GU>rdon
in the last four years of his life at Cheltenham, during one
16 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
of which he appears to have been a College boy, was a person
of no small consideration in the boxing saloons and training
stables of a great sporting centre, though we know from the
late Fred Marshall that in steeplechases he was a by-word
for his spills.
Perhaps the earliest of the verses of Grordon which have
come down to us may be found in the doggrel stanza he
wrote alluding to this —
'' There's lots of refusing and falls and mishaps.
Who's down on the Chestnut 7 He's hurt himself p'raps,
* Oh its Lindsay the Lanky,* says Hard-riding Bob,
' He's luckily saved Mr. Calcraft a job.' **
His having been in the thick of all the sporting life at
Cheltenham had a great influence on the poems he wrote
in Australia, for nearly all his best sporting poems relate
to his Cheltenham days.
The dozen or two of letters from GU>rdon to Charley
Walker, which are printed in this volume, form valuable
evidence of the life which Gordon led in his last boyhood's
years. Their value would be much enhanced if they were
dated, but none of the English letters are dated. It may
be true that Gordon in his last years ^ at College used to
absent himself from school in order to ride in steeple-
chases. But I find it difficult to believe that he ever
came into class wearing a jockey's silk under his over-
coat, for the simple reason that at Cheltenham College
there were hundreds of pegs in the lobbies, one belonging
to each boy in the school, on which he was compelled to
hang up his hat and overcoat when he entered the building,
so that if a boy persisted in keeping on his overcoat the
master would want to know why, and there would have
been a visit to the Principal's caning-cupboard when it
was discovered that he was wearing a jockey's silk shirt,
breeches and top-boots under his overcoat. But I knew
^ Gordon told Tenison Woods that he had been expelled from a Pnblic
Sohool for absenting himself to ride in a steeplechase.
Black Tom Oliver. fSce Chapter JX.)
From a fhslefafli in lit ^iiriihn /•/ tht latt
Thomas Pickernell, Eso. The Mr. Thomas
• • • • • •
• • • • '• •
.! •••
i • ••• • •
• • •
* • • •
THE LIFE OF GORDON 17
a clergyman who was detected with his hunting kit under
his surplice, at an early morning week-day service in Lent.
We are now approaching one of the most interesting
periods of Gordon's life, because to this belong all the
chapters which relate to his English circle.
It is only charitable to suppose that Gordon was bored
at home. From the fact that his parents worshipped and
were buried at Trinity Church, Cheltenham, it may be
presumed that they were strict Evangelicals. It is possible
that they had been brought up as Presbyterians and
attended Evangelical services as the nearest type of religion
they could get to their own Church in Cheltenham. It
may be that the atmosphere of the household was so strict
that the future poet sought relief in the dissipations of
sport. Such things have happened before now. But the
probable truth is that Lindsay had a natural love of boxing
and riding, and merely went where he could get them, which
happened to be at the Roebuck Inn, and at Oliver's stables,
and at local race-meetings.
With regard to Gordon's boxing we have the evidence
of a living contemporary and another not so long since
dead, *^ Mr. Thomas," the famous Grand National steeple-
chase rider (whose real name is Mr. Thomas Pickemdl),
and the late Fred Marshall, who was secretary to the
Cheltenham Staghounds and a well-known solicitor of
the town. Mr. Pickemell, who oddly enough had never
heard of Gordon's being on a horse in England, was a
Cheltenham College boy, the only one of his school-
fellows with whom we know Gk>rdon to have been intimate,
llieir link was not riding, though in after-life both passed
into history as among the most famous of steeplechasers.
But, then, all the time Mr. Pickemell was in Tasmania
steeplediasing, he was never aware that his old friend was
just across the strait in Australia, also steeplechasing.
Boxing was, however, a different matter. Mr. Pickemell
remembers going with Gordon to Jem Edwards's saloon
frequmtly, and it is he who tells the tale of Gordon, though
18 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
only a boy, knocking the Earywig senseless on an exhi-
bition night. And as he was a boxing num himself he was
not likely to relate what could not have happened* It is
he who tells how Crordon would challenge all coiners in the
boxing-booths at race-courses, he who tells us of the weight
of Lindsay's fist, Lindsay who could give a drive from the
shoulder like a pile-driver, Lindsay who could not be
persuaded to guard a blow in those days, but simply stopped
it with any part of his body. Fred Marshall used to own
to having cheeked people and let them settle with Gordon,
who was undoubtedly fond of fighting in those days, and
his letters show that he had not lost the habit in his early
days in Australia.^ But he steadied down afterwards,
because Mr. George Riddoch, who was one of his greatest
friends for many years, does not remember ever to have
heard of his fighting any one from the time he knew
him.
Mr. George Reeves gave him his first riding lessons.
Old Tom Oliver gave him his first mount on a race-horse
when he was quite a lad, and from that time onwards he
gave many of his spare hours to visiting Old Tom's training
stables at Prestbury, a village just outside Cheltenham.
There he became acquainted with others of the most
famous steeplechase riders of the day, such as George
Stevens (the Stevens of ** How we Beat the Favourite '*),
who still holds the record as the most successful jockey who
ever rode in the Grand National, and Bob Chapman —
" Hard-riding Bob."
^ "I have not fought muoh lately, but it may amuse you to hear that
I did hit out a few weeks ago. Our blacksmith was the victim, a ^trongish
chap but no science ; he was rather the worse for liquor too, and I was sober,
but in a d d bad humour. He hit me a chapping blow in a scuffle and
roused my monkey. I got clear of him and returned the spank with
interest, cutting his eye. He came at me three times and each time I
met him with the riglU and twice took him dean off his legs, so he dropt
it altogether. They were straight, fairish spanks, each left a dean knttMe
gash. My left I never used. We are good friends now. *' L. 6.**
(In a letter to Charley Walker written from Penola, South Australia,
October 1855.)
THE LIFE OF GORDON 19
And he did more than ride and box out at Prestbury,
for Tom Oliver enjoyed hearing him recite, which no one
else is recorded to have done, though Miss Bridges allowed
him to recite to her so as to advise him in the matter of the
pieces he should choose. The hours which Tom spent in
hearing Gordon's recitations undoubtedly played a great
part in keeping alive the poetic spark in Gordon, who had
no one else to help him in that direction at that time. It
is not recorded that Gordon's affectionate and appreciative
father, to the day of his death, was aware that his son had
ever written a line of poetry.
Many of the experiences of this part of his life must
have happened during the vacations of the three years he
spent at the Royal Military Academy at Woolwich. But
I know of no single allusion to the fact, though we may
imagine that an unbroken boy like Gordon must have
exhibited many of the cadet points of honour, the cadet
manliness, the cadet mannerisms and the cadet fopperies
when he came home on vacation.
•*Wigom," who knew Grordon well, says —
'^ I cannot trace that Gordon lived at Worcester earlier
than 1852. At that date his uncle. Captain R. C. H.
Gordon, mentioned in your letter, occupied a house situated
at Greenhill, London Road, Worcester, and I believe
Lindsay Gordon resided there during his stay at Worcester,
a period of about eighteen months only.
** In 1852 Gordon was one of the pupils at Worcester
Royal Grammar School, founded by Queen Elizabeth in
the third year of her reign, and the following is an extract
from the School Magazine of an account written by the
headmaster (1852) of the then state of the school.
^^'I also taught private pupils in the school, the
most distinguished of whom was Lindsay Gordon, who
was really a most extraordinary genius. He afterwards
wait abroad and took an appointment in the Australian
Mounted Police, where he was known as the Poet of
Australia.' "
C2
20 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
" Wigom " adds —
" I remember the mare called Louisa (late Lallah
Rookh) In colour she was black. Her racing perform-
ances are recorded in the Steeplechase Calendar of that
date.*'
It is» as I have pointed out, a most unfortunate thing
that there are no dates on the letters he wrote to Charley
Walker, while he was in England, for it is so difficult to
determine the exact time at which they were written
except by the fact that a few of them contain allusions to
his father having decided that he should go to Australia.
For they contain not a single allusion to Jem Edwards and
the boxing set, or to Prestbury and the steeplechasing set.
Grordon never even mentions riding or boxing beyond talk-
ing about thrashing this or that person. His talk in them
is of love and clothes and skylarking, of debts and differ-
ences with his father, and of leaving England. The most
athletic touch in these letters is the habit alluded to of
walking from Worcester to Cheltenham, a distance of
twenty-six miles, apparently to save the railway fare.
I take it that this was the least satisfactory period of
his life. His mind seems to run on dissipation instead of
sport, he is oppressed with debts, he talks of picking
quarrels, of eluding tradesmen, of hoodwinking his father ;
he paints a life of wildness generally ; he betrays aimless-
ness and apathy ; he gives one the idea that if he had had
the misfortune to remain in England, instead of going to a
newer, more vigorous and more adventurous atmosphere,
he would have developed into a mere hanger-on of sport,
one of the loafers on small allowances who hang about
places like Cheltenham.
But on the other hand it must be remembered that
Gordon, conscious perhaps of the poetic fire within him,
was at this time, as Miss Gordon herself tells us, in the
throes of a Byronic pose, and was writing to the boy who
shared his sprees with him. In trjring to appear ^^ a blood "
to Charley he may have made himself out a naughty-boy-
•••
• ■ •
• • •
THE LIFE OF GORDON 21
Lothario on very slender materials. The odds are that
before he dished up his experiences with Byronic sauces
for Charley Walker's consumption, they were most of them
only the siUy pranks of a larky boy driven into mischief
by the oppressive solemnity of his home. And if the
adventures have to be taken literally, they would most of
them have been considered very trivial if he had been the
son and not the Scotch cousin of the Duke of Richmond
or the Marquis of Huntly.
It would hardly be consistent for a man who wrote
poems like Gordon to be " a plaster saint " in real life,
however much one would like to gloss over certain inci-
dents. The letters to Charley Walker could not be omitted
from this volume, however much Mrs. Grundy might have
been gratified by the omission, because they allude in
almost every page to the one romance of his life about
which any information has come down to us — ^his hopeless
love for the beautiful Jane Bridges.
Jane's father, Mr. Bridges of St. John's and Broughton
Hackett, was a large farmer near Worcester. During his
last year or two in England Gordon and his friend Charley
Walker were constant visitors at Broughton Hackett, and
Charley eventually married a younger sister, Sally Bridges.
But Jane refused to accept Gordon or give him any hope,
and was twice very happily married, first to Mr. Matthews,
father of Mr. J. B. Matthews, one of the present leaders at
the Bar, and second to Mr. Edwin Lees, an eminent
naturalist, over whose grave Sir Joseph Banks planted a
Wellingtonia from the National Collection.
She seems to have been an excellent influence in Gordon's
life in those salad days ; for she was very severe on foolish
escapades or attempts to take liberties, while she showed
her interest in the serious side of the boy by letting him
recite his favourite pieces to her, and helping him to choose
the poems which he should study as models, though she
did not know that he had tried to write poetry.
But sh^was very pretty, and Gordon was falling in love
22 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
with her all the time, and when his father had made all
the arrangements for his going to Australia, and he went
to say good-bye, his heart failed him and he felt that he
could not leave Jane Bridges if she would promise to
marry him.
But forttmately for him she bravely refused to accept
him or give him any hope, or bid him stay in England.
She tells the story in her own words on page 357.
Nature designed Australia and Lindsay Gordon for each
other, though Che years of his pilgrimage were not many
in the Promised Land, and some ^* with his sweat were
sodden and some were salt with his tears." Australia
made a man of him. Australia made an immortal of him.
And he gave Australia the grim gospel of manliness which
is to the Bushman what his bushido is to the Samurai of
Japan — the code by which he must not be found wanting.
Had he not been the mighty horseman, the dauntless
fighter that he was, Australia might never have inclined
an ear, though he proclaimed his message from the house*
tops. At first she listened to him as a man rather than
as a poet. She has never listened to her other chief poet,
Henry Kendall, though she is proud of his position in
English Literature.
Gordon's voyage to Australia was uneventful ; he wrote
a farewell to his family which is among the most widely-
remembered of his poems (" To My Sister "), and he wrote
verses in the album of a fair fellow passenger {*^ The
Ocean Heaves Around us Still ''), assuring her that they
were the first verses he had ever written, though the
letters he wrote to Charley Walker before he left certainly
contain some verse — rather brilliant verse — ^and at least
two sets of sporting rhymes written before he left England
have been preserved, and are printed in this volume. But
Lindsay, whether he was as good an actor as they say in
private theatricals or not, was certainly fond of imagining
himself in interesting poses. Li one of his early letters
from Australia he says that when he is riding through the
THE LIFE OF GORDON 28
Bush after the cattle he feels like one of the old moss-
troopers. He had moss-trooper blood in him, for his
ancestors before Adam of Gordon lived in the two viUages
of Gordon (which stiU confer a title on the Duke of Rich-
mond and Gordon), on the Scottish border, where moss-
trooping and cattle-reiving were the principal forms of
farming. It has been stated ^ that he was only an imaginary
partaker in the ride, " From the Wreck," as well as in the
fig^t with the Bushranger in '' Wolf and Hound." The
romance in *^ No Name " is considered to have originated
in Browning's poems, not in his own life : and Mr. Holman,
the trainer at Prestbury, not Grordon himself, is shown to
have been the winner in ^* How we Beat the Favourite."
Compared with these it was a slight thing to picture
himsdf making his debut as a writer of verse in that pretty
gill's album. The verses were altogether superior to
^* The Feud," ' which he wrote some years later, to be sold
with some of Sir Noel Paton's engravings at a charity
bazaar at Mount Gambier.
Almost from the day that he set foot in Australia the
improvement in his character began. In England he had
been a wild boy with nothing much in his favour beyond
bdng indomitable in spirit and endurance as a boxer, and
a plucky beginner in steeplechasing. Debt, dissipation
and apathy were dogging him. In AustraUa he at once
began to throw off the trammels, though his early letters
from Australia to Charley Walker still exhibit some traces
of the old Adam.
Gordon's youthful wildness, real or exaggerated, soon
ceases to appear in his letters. At the very beginning of
his career in Australia he gave evidence of his intention
to be a man. He took out with him introductions to the
Governor and other highly-placed persons in South Austra-
^ Mis. Lander gives oiroonifltanti&l details, which seem to prove that
he did ride from the wreck himself, and his wife says that he did.
Qiven on page 335. Gordon's earliest long poem which has been pre-
served wodU seem to be his poem on the Death of Nelson, given on p. 329.
24 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
lia. The Governor was doubtless expected to find him a
post in the Government Service, a sinecure for a choice,
since he was a man of good and influential family. But
Gordon did not even deliver his introductions. He arrived
in Australia on November 14, 1858, having left England on
August 7. On November 17 he applied for an appointment
as a constable in the Mounted Police, and in November he
was gazetted. And thus began his acquaintance with the
stem realities of life, his immortal connection with the
Australian Bush. A point to which attention has never
been drawn, is a sentence in a letter written to Charley
Walker, before Gordon left England. "" The governor has
got an offer of an appointment as officer in (what should
you think !) the Mounted Police in Australia, devilish good
pay, a horse, three suits of regimentals yearly and lots of
grub, for me of course, I don't mean for himself, and he
wanted me to take it. I think I shall, in fact it's no use
mincing the matter, I know I mtui" ^
It appears from this that Gordon had the opportunity
of entering the South Australian Mounted Police as a
commissioned officer, instead of enlisting in it as a private,
but simply did not take the trouble to present his cre-
dentials. He might have found an officer's life in that
adventurous profession so congenial that he might have
stuck to it and gone down to posterity as Chief Commissioner
of the Police.
It is only barely possible that Gordon ever rode in the
Gold Escort, because it was discontinued almost immedi-
ately after he joined the force. He remained in the force
for two years, and then resigned, because he resented being
ordered about by a sergeant of common birth who liked to
be a Jack-in-Office over a gentleman. It is said that the
actual occasion arose from the sergeant ordering him to
black his boots. But it is hardly possible for such an order
^ Goidon waB not the first of his family to go to Australia. It is olear from
a letter which he wrote from Australia in June 1863, to his uncle. Captain
R, C. H, Gordon (quoted on p. 422), that this uncle had been to Australia.
THE LIFE OF GORDON 25
to have been giren in the Australia of those days, especially
to a fire-eater like Gordon.
It is just as likely that he left the force because he wished
to be his own master, and felt that he had now sufficient
Colonial experience to start in a profession after his own
heart, that of the wandering horse-breaker, who goes from
station to station to break in the young horses. He almost
says as much in one of his letters.
^^ The truth is, I was in too great a hurry to be inde-
pendent, and did not wait till I had accumulated sufficient
capital to carry out my projects, chancing too much to
Fortune, which, till latterly, had not been so very unkind .
The old fault, Charley ; make up your mind to win, and if
you lose, shift for yourself as best you may " (A. L.
Gordon, writing to Charley Walker from Adelaide,
January 1857).
Before he left the police force an incident occurred,
moitioned in a letter to Charley Walker. It reads to me
as if Gordon, who at no time was a lady killer, had won
Mrs. Saxon's affections without knowing it or intending it,
and that she, a humbly-born woman married to a humbly-
bom man, could not but feel the impending loss of the
heroic and chivalrous gentleman, whom his official duties
had made the sharer of their cottage.
Gordon, if he had been sent to Oxford, as previous bio-
graphies have asserted, would have been there at the time
at which this episode happened. But the late Warden of
Merton, the College to which tradition assigns him, as it
apocryphally assigned Dante and Chaucer, had the College
records exMnined and found that he never was on the books
of Merton.
The story, therefore, of Gordon, while he was at Oxford,
having stolen valuable books from his father to sell them
for a friend's debts, is ipso facto incredible. It could not
have happened if he never was at Oxford.
Gordon was twenty-two when he started business as a
horse-breaker and remained in the business for seven years.
26 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
He rode from station to station, spending days or weeks
according as his services were required. When he was at
home he shared a cottage a few miles from Mount Gambier
with another horse-breaker named WiUiam Trainor. Mr*
Riddoch says that he was never, as has sometimes been
asserted, a boundary-rider (stock-rider — stockman), and he
never lived in the men's hut. Occasionally he would be
asked to stay in the squatter's house, but generally he
camped by himself, so that he could read aiter he had
turned in.
Grordon's first meeting with Trainor, as described by Sir
Frank Madden, the present Speaker of the Lower House
of Parliament in the State of Victoria (in a chapter written
for this book), is very amusing and characteristic.
^^ I remember his account of his first meeting with one
of his humble but most devoted admirers, *' Billy Trainor.*
It was when Gordon was in the Police, and stationed at
Mount Gambier. There was a circus performing in the
town and Trainor was one of the company. He had been
cast for the usual * drunken man ' who intrudes into the
circus during the performance. Gordon was on duty, and
not realising that Trainor was not drunk but only sham-
ming, arrested him and took him to the lock-up. Trainor
protested that he was one of the company, but Gordon
would not beheve him until at the lock-up he threw off
the old clothes he was wearing over his tights and spangles,
when he was allowed to depart to fulfil his engagement.
Gordon was so delighted with Trainor's daring and horse-
manship, that, when he left the police soon after, he and
Trainor became fast friends and they went away breaking
horses together."
Trainor afterwards became the trainer of steeplechasers
for one of the principal race-horse owners of South Australia
for a while, but did not retain the position.
It was in his capacity of policeman also that Gordon,
according to Mr. Howlett Ross, first made the acquaintance
of Tommy Hales, one of the most famous jockeys in the
THE LIFE OF GORDON 27
history of the Australian turf. '* This was while the poet
was at Penola. * Tommy ' was about ten or eleven years
dd, and in one of his mischievous moods had brought
down upon himself the strong arm of the law, the result
being that he was conveyed to the lock-up for safety.
Gordon heard of the aflfair, and doubtless remembering his
own wild doings on the Cotswold Hills^ and full of sjrmpathy
for boyish exuberance» released the repentant ^ Tommy.*
Long after, the then two famous horsemen met at Lake
Hawdon Station, where Grordon was breaking in some young
colts, and spent many happy weeks together."
Tenison Woods has told us that Grordon, when he was
in camp at a station for horse-breaking, did not pitch his
tent near the station buildings, but about a mile on. He
liked the scditude of the bush, at night surrounded by the
darkness and a silence only broken by bush sounds like the
creaking of the She-oaks, the flapping of the bark on the
White-gums, and the night-calls of beast and bird. There
was the cramped Bushman's tent feebly illuminated by
the light of a sludge lamp — ^made of the bottle-brush of
a h<meysuckle, or a rag-wick, thrust into a broken pannikin
of mutton fat. If you peeped inside, you would have seen
lying on his back on the shakedown bed, a tall strong man
*' with an honest pair of dark grey eyes, and a noble type
of resolute features round which the dark brown hair
dustered in short curls " ; you would be surprised to find
him studying by that feeble light a Horace or a Browning,
and to find the same man out at daybreak still with the
smartness of the trooper evidenced in his weU-fitting cord
breeches and top boots, dark blue jersey showing his wiry
figure, and jaunty cabbage-tree hat. That was the young
Gordon stiU of the age when he might have been at Oxford,
enjoying the liberty and excitement of a colony that ex-
tended across a continent. Here and there a squatter
offered the hospitalities of his home to him for his own
sake. No one knew that he was one of the best-born men
in Australia,
28 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
The man with whom he shared his hut is still alive, and
has given this interesting picture of their life together.
He told Gordon's biographer that when they were working
near home, they had tea together after dark, and then it it
was winter went to bed for the sake of warmth and lay there
smoking, and that, when they had had a bit of a yam,
Gordon would produce a novel, generally by Scott, Dickens,
Kingsley, Mayne Reid, or Whyte Melville. Whyte Mel-
ville was his favourite. He had no book of poetry there,
until he met Tenison Woods and could borrow one from
him, except Macaulay's Lays of Ancient Rome^ and he
knew them by heart from end to end. Mr. Sutherland
says that ^*at this period of his life his early fancy for
rhyme seems to have died out. There is no record that
he wrote verses and it seems certain that for years he read
very little."
Turner and Sutherland quote Trainor as saying —
^* Gordon was a great reader, and amongst other things
was fond of a good story. He would often read a book
through without putting it out of his hands. On one oc-
casion he suggested that I ought to read some of these
books. I replied that it was useless, for I should forget
all that was in them immediately afterwards, as he no doubt
did himself. Then he told me it was not so. He rarely
forgot any story he had once read. He asked me to open
one of the books on the table and read him a line or two
anywhere. This I did, and he went on to the end of the
page almost word for word as it was printed. I tried him
in different parts of the book, always with the same result.
. . . There was something,'* he says, ^^ so generous and
noble about him, he was so upright and conscientious amid
all the whims of his most peculiar nature, that I felt him
to be of a stamp quite superior to the men around him,
and the closer our acquaintance grew, the deeper became
my feelings of respect and admiration.' "
The same observer noticed Gordon about this time
indulging in the habits which afterwards marked his
THE LIFE OF GORDON 29
method of composing, the scribbling on scraps of paper
after a long day's ride, the musing fits when it was quite
useless to try to draw him into conversation, followed
by a secretive jotting down of verses; the Sundays spent
in dreaming on the cliffs above the neighbouring coast.
About now we have a date with a shadowy tale attached
to it. Turner and Sutherland mention a desperate
flirtation which Grordon had in 1860 somewhere in the
Mount Gambier district which they hint may have been
a Byronic pose. But I have information which had not
transpired when their book was published about the iUe-
gitimate daughter who is still alive, and living in a
sntiall way in the Mount Gambier district.
Gordon did not lose much time about starting on his
favourite pastime in the new country. He only landed
in Adelaide in the middle of November 1858, and in
November 1854 he wrote to Charley Walker from Penola,
South Australia : " I have a horse for the steeplechase
next meeting which comes off in a few months. I have
ridden with some success since I have been out here, but
do not take the same interest in it that I used to.'*
It was not, I think, till he had left the police force for
the comparatively more aristocratic profession of horse-
breaker, that the incident of the Ladies' Purse Race at
some small South Australian township which comes into
various accounts of Gtordon's life, took place. There are
genuine rumours attaching to this incident. The Ladies'
Purse, in the words of Mr. Tenison Woods, " was a bag of
fancy work, containing a very extensive and valuable
assortment of articles, which the ladies of the district used
to make up. It included all kinds of fancy work and
embroidery, such as smoking caps, slippers, belts, purses,
etc. 'Only gentlemen riders could contend for it, and
these must be accepted by a ladies' committee formed of
those who had worked for the bag. Gordon applied for
permission to ride for this prize at one meeting, and wasT
refused. He was much insulted at the refusal, but I
80 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
don't think he said a word on the Bubject except to myself,
and what he did say was very characteristic of the man.
He remarked that I used to blame him for not mixing
more with the people of the district, and said ironically
that this would show how little he would gain by con-
sorting with such society. It happened, moreover, that
the coveted prize fell that year to the son of a squatter,
who, a few years previously, had been a publican. It
was quite a disappointment to the ladies' committee, who
expected the bag to fall into the hands of one who was
better known and much more admired. They gave a
practical effect to their dissatisfaction by taking the most
valuable things out of the bag before it was given to the
winner. This Gordon knew, and his comments upon it
were very cynical."
What these lady-like ladies did not know was that the
horse-breaker to whom they refused the right of competing
was as well-bom as any man in Australia — ^heir to the
lairdship of Hallhead and the barony of E^lemont, and
before he died, head of the family.^
There were many of these small race-meetings on both
sides of the Victorian and South Australian border as was
natural when people had to take a horse where they now
take a train, and every one rode, and almost everybody
had the use of a horse. Jumping (on horseback) too was a
useful accomplishment where it might save you a detour
of miles. If a stockman was a good rider and had a pretty
good horse he would put in for these little races, and
Gordon as a horse-breaker ran a far better chance of having
a good mount. The Rev. J. E. Tenison Woods, the Roman
Catholic priest who had a mission parish of the twenty-two
thousand square miles in this part of South Australia,
known as the New Country, and was so good to Gordon,
^ An ironioal tonoh about this incident is that Qordon^s cousin, Colonel
Gordon-Gihnour, son of the lady whom he failed to dispossees of the
Esslemont estate, married Lady Susan Lygon, sister of Earl Beauchamp,
who was for a time Gk>Temor of New South Wales.
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THE LIFE OF GORDON 81
says : *^ It was in the year 1857 that I first made the
acquaintance of Adam Lindsay Gordon — over this area
Gordon was roving when I met him. He had a reputation
as a skilful horse-breaker, and did a little dealing in horses,
and was well known at all stations, and used to ride in
steeplechases and hurdle-races at the Bush township
meetings."
A little lower down, Tenison Woods, who afterwards
gave up his charge and became a well-known writer on
Natural History, gives a more detailed account of their
meeting.
'* He was tall and slim, with stooping shoulders, induced,
no doubt, by a habit of leaning forward to assist his very
defective eyesight. His walk was very awkward. He had
a good-shaped head, with short, curly, brown hair. His
features were small, while the contour of his face reminded
me of Byron's ; his beard was thin and scanty, while his
complexion was pale, despite his outdoor life."
At that time, says Father Woods, "" I met him on a cattle
station near Guichen Bay where he was breaking in some
horses for Mr. Harry Stockdale. He was at work in the
stockyard with a colt which was trying hard to throw him.
At last the girths broke, and Goidon landed on his feet.
Again, at supper, I saw him, when master, man and guest
all met and mingled at the same board. Gordon scarcely
spoke until after supper, when he found me on the verandah
and talked for an hour, not on the usual topics at such
places, but about poetry and poets.
*' I was much interested and inquired who he was.
Mr. Stockdale said he was a good, steady lad and a splendid
horseman. He had been a mounted policeman, but had
resigned and taken to the employment in which I found
hini. Mr. Stockdale recognised something unconmionin
Gordon. He never drank or gambled — he was too
moody to be regarded as a favourite ; and did not associate
much with those about him.
** The next morning, as I resumed my journey, he
82 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
overtook me. He rode a colt half broken in, so that we
conversed little. He was going to a station forty miles
away, and the same road I was following. He wore the
usual bush costume — a slouch hat, a blue jumper, with a
pair of riding cords tucked into common Wellington boots.
He was always neatly dressed, and carried the air of a
gentleman.
'^ He plunged into poetry again, and amazed me by
reciting quotations at length from Virgil, Homer, and Ovid.
His Greek pronunciation was so strange I could hardly
understand him. He said he had never been able to learn
much Greek, and most of it he had acquired in the bush.
This so interested me that I offered to lend him any books
he might want ; he thanked me, but borrowed few of them.
'* He questioned me about French authors, reciting
long passages from Racine's Athalie^ and Comeille's
Cid. His pronunciation was defective, though he had
spent some time in France. After a pleasant day we parted
our ways at sundown; it is twenty-six years ago, but I
remember how much impressed I was with him, his know-
ledge, his memory, and his literary tastes. His way of
reciting poetry was odd, and his delivery monotonous,
but his way of emphasising the beautiful parts was charm-
ing from its earnestness. It was a puzzle to me how he
managed to get books and carry them about and get time
to read them. His only leisure would be in the evening,
generally by a pannikin lamp— 4:hat is, a honeysuckle cone
stuck in clay in a pannikin, surrounded with mutton fat —
this with his defective eyesight.
*' After this we had many and many a long ride together.
The horses travel better in company and two heads are
better than one at crossing difficult country. ... I
remember him telling me that he knew very little of Horace,
and I gave him a small pocket edition. When next I
met him he had learnt a good many of the odes and recited
them for me as we went along. Horace's De Arte Poetica
charmed him exceedingly, and I often heard him quote the
THE LIFE OF GORDON 88
passage, ^si vis me fieie,' etc. I should say, from all
I knew of Gordon, that no one ever formed his taste so
completely on classical models, though certainly one
would not gather this from his writing. ... In those days
squatters used to try to keep up appearances and a dis-
tinction was made between visitors and station hands.
At one place in particular where we arrived at night
Gordon did not tell me until I had dismounted that he was
going some six miles farther. I had some duty to perform
at the station or I would have gone on, though we were
both jaded from a fifty mile ride amid heavy showers of
rain. I met him by appointment two days afterwards.
He then told me why he had ridden on farther. On a
fooner visit to the station he had been sent to the men's
hut instead of being asked into the house. Then he recited
Boms's, ^ A man's a man for a' that,' yet I must say he
took the thing in good part and said he would not blame
them for not asking a horse-breaker into their parlour.
* Fm as well bom as any of them and perhaps better edu-
cated^ but then they don't know that.' It was then that
he first volunteered to give me some history of his early
career. He said that his father was a gentleman of
property in England, and that he had been at a public
school, or at one of the Universities, I forget which now.
He said he had been expelled for breaking rules and absent-
ing himself in order to ride in a steeplechase. He was
remarked as being unsociable in his habits ; he would prefer
riding by himself unless he would meet with a congenial
companion, and when alone used to saunter along slowly,
very seldom putting his horse out of a walk. I believe
DOW that it was at these times he was composing his poetry.
He hinted at this to me, but I never could get him to show
me any of his compositions. I think I may say that for
five years I was the only intimate friend he had in the
Bushy but I never could get him to shake off that shyness
and reserve which kept him locked up as it were within
Readers of his poetry will not fail to remark
84 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
that sad tone of disappointment which runs through many
of his pieces. There was little or none of this in his
conversation, in fact, unless on the subject of poetry he
did not speak much at all ; though passionately fond of
horses and thrown amongst horsey people he never talked
about them except to make a necessary remark. ... a
quiet, shy, polite young man of gentlemanly bearing . . •"
(quoted from memory). It was to Father Woods in 1800
that Gordon recited the Tempest scene from King Lear
when they were overtaken by a storm. They were on a
journey from the sea coast to Mount Gambler and sheltered
under a tree, soaked to the skin and shivering with cold.
TheyXx>uld not light a fire and were very miserable altogether.
*' He was much amused when I asked him whether he would
not like a nice drink of cold spring water after his exertions.
We got to a station about midnight and had to share the
same room, but Grordon would not go to bed. The warm
tea we had at supper had revived him, and he kept walking
up and down the supper room reciting Childe Harold
tiU near morning.''
Meeting Tenison Woods made a profound change in
Gordon's life. He was the first really intellectual man the
poet had met since he left England. With his own writings
on Natural History the priest afterwards earned a per-
manent place in English libraries, and he had a store of
good books, which he was willing to lend Gordon in spite
of their value and irreplaceability in the Bush, and Gordon's
hard wear of them. It was, as I have said, he who lent
Gordon the pocket Horace, which the poet carried about
with him on his long rides in the Bush, and studied so
intently that he knew the whole of the Ars Poetica and
nearly the whole of the Odes by heart (proving that he
must have known enough Latin to be able to translate them
loosely, since otherwise it would have been impossible to
know them by heart); and it was he who lent Gordon
Browning's poems, the contents of which the poet threw
into the odd melting pot of his brain. The influence of
THE LIFE OF GORDON 85
Browning is very marked in his poems, though as a rule
they are as different from Browning's in form as Gordon
himself was from Browning.
The next eonsiderable event in Grordon's life was his
marriage.
EBs wife, Maggie Park, was a Glasgow girl who had come
to Australia with her father and sister. Grordon met
her at the Caledonian Hotel at a little coast town called
Robe, on Guichen Bay, when he was horse-breaking for
Mr. Edward Stockdale of Lake Hawdon Station in the
neighbourhood. She was, I understand, the niece of
the hotel keeper's wife and was helping her aunt. Small
Australian hotels are generally worked by a family.
It has always been said that Gordon broke several
bones in a heavy fall and was confined to his bed in this
inn for a long time, nursed by Maggie, and seeing what a
good, handy girl she was, thought she would make his
home more comfortable. The story has recently been
confirmed by his wife in her talk with Mr. C. R.
waton.
I have noticed nothing in Grordon's poetry or Grordon's
letters to show that he studied women closely, or thought
about them much, or imagined himself in romances with
them. That Gordon had poses was undeniable — ^he was
even fond of them, but the romantic pose was not one of
them, in spite of his fondness for Byron. The few allusions
to love stairs in his poems — ^in ''No Name" and the
"Road to Avernus," as well as in the half-baked
" Ashtaroth " — seem really to be literary exercises.
Tenison Woods says : "' In 1864 he told me that a
relative had died and left him a considerable sum of money.
I think he inherited it on the death of his father, but of
this I am not quite sure. As usual in such cases the amount
was much exaggerated and Gordon was everywhere
talked of as a millionaire. He told me, however, that the
amount was not very large, but that he would henceforth
give up horse-breaking and buy or rent a smaU station.
D2
86 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
He said with great satisfaction that he would have more
time to himjself now, and I wondered how he would be
more to himself than he was.^ Shortly after this I
heard that he was married. Nothing ever surprised me
so much. Of all my acquaintance he was least like a
marrying man. When I met him subsequently he told
me it was true that he had become a married man and
had taken to housekeeping. He had rented a small
cottage in the township of Robe, Guichen Bay; he
smiled in his quiet way as I told him of my surprise,
and said there was no romance about his love-making.
He had met his wife at a place where he stayed frequently,
the hotel at Kingston, I think, but I am not sure ; he said
he had noticed that she was a very respectable and
industrious girl who would make him a good housekeeper.
A few days before he married he said as he was leaving,
* Well, girl, I like your ways, you seem industrious and
sensible. If you like I will take a cottage at Robe, and we
will get married next week, and you shall keep home for
me * {See Howlett Rosses Memoir). The girl consented and
they were married a few days after. I am sure Mrs.
Gordon was to him the thrifty housekeeper he expected
her to be ; a companion to him she would hardly be, as
the dififerences in their position and education were so
great. When I called upon them some time afterwards,
I was introduced to a small, slim, rather good-looking
lassie, in appearance about fifteen years of age. Gordon
had a strange habit of addressing her as ^ girl,' which
sounded a little odd before visitors, though it was
appropriate in one sense."
In 1887 a monument was erected at " Lindsay Gordon's
Leap," Mount Gambier, one of the two sites assigned to
Gordon's wonderful feat on Red Lancer. Mr. John
Riddoch, J.P., of Yallum (an old friend of Gordon's), laid
the foundation stone, and in his speech said : ^^ Gk>rdon
^ TliiB is incorrect. Gordon inherited the money in 1864, but he was
married in October 1862.
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THE LIFE OF GORDON 87
was necessarily thrown much into the society of sporting
men, many of whom were his friends^ but at the same time
the conviction was forced upon him that many of that
dass were most undesirable companions, and he was led
to fear that through their influence he might be led into
some act that his conscience and high sense of honour
would not fully approve. During the last years of his
life, when his popularity as a steeplechaser was at its
highest, when he, as a rider, was backed and not the horse
he rode, and when he was not in affluent circumstances,
many temptations were put before him, temptations that
to many, similarly placed, would be irresistible. But
those who knew Grordon best, however, would know that
he was far above being tampered with, and that those
who might try to tamper with him would not go unscathed
away.'*
This is South Australia's monument to Gordon.
Melbourne, the city where he died, has erected a monument
over his grave in the Brighton cemetery. But Gordon
needs no monument in the Southern Hemisphere, for
there his memory is graven on the hearts of men.^
^ It was while Gordon was living in the Mount Gambier district that he
made his famous leap over a fence on the edge of a precipice, though the
exact plaoe and the exact date seem to be in dispute. Mr. Howlett Ross
quotes *' Bruni " of the Auslrdlaaian with reference to the fact. '* Following
the metalled road about a quarter of a mile further, I reach the path
trending to the right which leads to the summit of the Mount. It was
near this spot that the late A. L. Gordon is said to have jumped his horse
in and out of the fence that runs round the Blue Lake. The fence, though
of a good height and strongly made, is one that any ordinary hunter could
dear with ease, but the feat is rendered extremely dangerous owing to
the small space on the lake side of the fence for a horse to land and take
off again. The slightest mistake would have hurled horse and rider into
the lake two hundred feet below. It is just such a thing as Gordon would
have done in those days." The poet and some sporting friends from
Victoria were riding in the neighbourhood, and the conversation turned
on feats of horsemanship witnessed in the vicinity. Gordon was imme-
diately inflamed with a desire to perform a feat that he felt sure none of
his friends would dare emulate. He carried Red Lancer over the
fence, and, by leaping from rock to rock, cleared a chasm more than forty
88 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Mr. George Riddoch here draws attention for the first
time to the reason which prompted Gordon to make his
mad leap at Momit Gambier.
About GordorCs Leap.
'' Gordon and a number of other men were out kangaroo
hunting near Mount Gambier, and on the way back some of
the hunters from the Hamilton District of Victoria
having their horses trained to it, jumped over cattle.
Gordon's horse would not, and to show what he and his
horse could do, he put it at a high fence round the Blue
Lake, where the landing was very narrow, and if he had
made a mistake horse and rider would have gone down a
rough almost perpendicular bank 800 or 400 feet high into
the Blue Lake, which is very deep. The obelisk put up
to commemorate the act was erected near the spot."
After his marriage, Grordon went first to live at Penola,
forty miles inland, in furnished lodgings. But he could
not rest away from the sea, so they changed to a cottage
in a valley near Moimt Gambier, and within half a mile of
Cape Northumberland, the scene or inspiration of so much
of his writing. " The two years spent therein were very
happy," say Turner and Sutherland. " He never repented
of his choice, and his subsequent letters breathe a mingled
admiration and attachment for his wife. She made the
little home comfortable, and had a cheery way which was
like a tonic to a brooding mind. And she had the tact not
to intrude needlessly when a spell of meditative silence
fell upon him. For in truth no small share of his mother's
gloom was gathering over the sunshine of those pleasant
days. His verses show how his soul was filled with a
melancholy that mused in vain on the mystery of life and
the universe; when the futility of its fitful struggles, and
the enigmas that lie beyond its final bourne oppressed
feet wide, the noble horse seeming to be inspired with the fearless courage
of its rider. Among the friends who were present was Mr. W. lYainor of
Coleraine.
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THE LIFE OF GORDON 89
bim and wrapped him in a far-off silence." Of his
marriage, Tenison Woods wrote: '^ Shortly afterwards
I was much surprised to hear of his marriage. He had
rented a cottage in Robe township* South Australia He
said there was no romance about his marriage. His
home was furnished like any working man's might be;
the house was so placed, you could see the sea and a small
salt-water lake. He enjoyed it, but said he found Ufe
monotonous.'*
This cottage was not the famous Dingley Dell, for the
purchase of which as a State Gordon Museum, negotiations
are now on foot in Adelaide. Mrs. N. A Lord, daughter
of the Vicar of Mount Gambier in Gordon's time, who
married a business man in that town, thus describes
Dingley Dell in an article incorporated by Mr. Hewlett
Ross in his delightful little memoir of Gordon —
" Leaving the coast (at Port MacDonell) when about half
a mile from a rocky headland whereon is planted a noble
lighthouse, we struck inland and were soon passing
through a dense grove of wattles just bursting into bloom,
box shrubs which were not yet clothed with their creamy-
white plumes (so like the English meadowsweet), and another
tall shrub which the boy called tea-tree, but is not the tree
usually known by that name, and here at once I recog-
nised the sights and sounds which Gordon so constantly
described.
*^ At last we emerged on a bush road, at one side of which
a brush fence guarded a pleasant-looking homestead — ^a
white-walled cottage with its side to the road, and facing
what (if the building had been more pretentious) we
should have called a wide, well-kept lawn, vividly green,
surrounded by knolls, on which were groves of wattles,
and here and there the beautiful flowering gum, a small
tree, or tall shrub, which I believe is rare. It has three
distinct varieties — creamy-white, deep crimson, and pale
pink, the blossom being about three times the size of the
ordinary gum flower.
40 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
** * There, sir/ said the boy, ^ that is Dingley Ddl/
** Yes» there was the roof which had sheltered the active
f orm» the restless brain of the poet ; from here he used to
wander afoot through the pretty ddls or on the range,
whence, through and over a waving sea of tree-tops, the
blue Southern Ocean flashes in the distance, or, on one of
his good steeds, scouring beaten tracks, gates and slip-
pands, across country to Allandale and Mount Gambler;
but very often his steps turned to the coast, and there
some of his best lines were roughly jotted down. There are,
I fancy, few Australians, at all events few Victorians, who
do not know ^ Visions in the Smoke.' The first stanza
points to the life, the scene which met our eyes when,
with many lingering looks backward cast at Dingley
Ddl, we followed our young guide up the steep road, and
at last came in view of the sea, where he wrote —
«( (
Best, and be thankful ! On the verge
Of the tall cliffy rugged and grey,
By whose granite base the breakers surge,
And shiver their frothy spray.
Outstretched I gaze on tiie eddying wreath
That gathers and flits away,
With the surf beneath, and between my teeth
The stem of the * ancient day/
The neutral tint of the sullen sea
Is flecked with the snowy foam,
And the distant gale sighs drearilie.
As the wanderer sighs for his home;
The white sea-horses toss their manes
On the bar of the southern reef.
And the breakers moan, and — ^by Jove, it rains I
(I thought I should come to grief).'"
Here he might have lived in satisfied content writing
poems and breaking horses and doing a little dealing in
horses, but for the bolt that suddenly dropped from the
blue in the shape of a legacy of seven thousand pounds,
which had been awaiting him under his mother's settle-
ment for five years, the trustees being unable to attract
his notice. This legacy was the turning point in his life
THE LIFE OF GORDON 41
for better and worse, and opens up various questions and
reflections. The first is that with the exception of what
we can gather from letters written in October 1855» from
Penola to Charley Walter, and in June 1868» to his uncle
Robert at Worcester, there is no evidence of Gordon
having had any conmiunication with his family between
his landing in Adelaide in November 1858, and receiving
this intimation of his legacy in 1864. We have his
cousin's. Miss Frances Gordon's, authority for stating that
Captain Gordon, who was deeply attached to his wild
son, had been in the habit of transmitting sums of
money to Australia for him with letters addressed to
the care of a certain agent. It would seem that the agent
embezzled the money and suppressed the letters to cover
his tracks. Gordon, hurt at not hearing from his father,
ceased at length to write to him, that is the story ; there
has not yet been any certain confirmation of it, but it
accounts for a good deal, including the difficulty of his
mother's trustees in ascertaining his whereabouts, to send
him his legacy. One of them. Sir Alexander Trotter,
liked the boy well enough to persist in the search and was
at length rewarded with success.
That brings us to a second point — ^why did Gordon
receive only seven thousand poimds. His mother's
portion after all the losses by the abolition of the slave
trade was . estimated at twenty thousand pounds, and
even supposing that it is divided equally between her
surviving children, we only know of two of them, Lindsay
and Inez Ratti (who has issue still surviving). That
problem is never likely to be cleared up.
Was Gordon's legacy a blessing or a curse ? If he had
been content to stay at Cape Northumberland, buying
and adding to his cottage, acquiring enough land round
it to breed and deal in horses, he might have developed
into a happy and prosperous horse farmer. The South-
east of the Colony in those days did a very good trade
with horses in India, and Gordon could have collected
42 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
drafts for shipping from Robe Town and could have done
some quiet race-horse training and steeplechasing into
the bargain. But the world might have been the loser,
for his poems might have rested obscurely in a notebook,
shown deprecatingly to visitors and perhaps never to the
right one who could make the contents known to the
public.
Undoubtedly Gordon parted with peace by leaving his
quiet home and allowing other people to perniade him
into politics and speculation. It is said that he lent
money carelessly and prodigally ; it is said that his unlucky
speculations were forced upon him by sharper acquaint-
ances. It is easy to make unfortunate speculations
without the intervention of knavery. With his legacy
(yordon did buy sundry small properties in his own district
and did take up land in West Australia, which of course had
to be managed for him, as he could not live there. The
country he took up proved to be infested by the lobelia,
whose poisonous foliage is the bane of West Australian
horse farmers and sheep farmers. It is not certain that
the man who sold him the property was aware of this.
The partner who shared his West Australian vicissitudes
was Mr. Lambton L. Mount, who is still alive, a brother
of Mr. Harry Mount, who was his partner in the Ballarat
livery stable.
He was not yet known as an author, though he had
already printed *' The Feud," a ballad of no real value,
but of considerable length, alluded to above, but he was
very well known in the district, as he had wandered from
station to station, breaking horses. When, therefore, it
was necessary for the Squatters' Party to find a good
candidate to oppose the Attorney-General, Mr. Randolph
Stow, in an election at the end of 1864, because the
(Tovemment were inaugurating a policy to break up the
squatters' runs, eyes were naturally turned upon Gk)rdon.
His legacy made him comparatively a man of leisure, able
to give up the time to be a member of Parliament : he
s I
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was known to most people in the district and personally
popular, and could be relied on to take a view of things
fair to the squatter without being himself identified with
the squatting interest. His Parliamentary speeches and
an outline of his election campaign are reserved for a
later volume. Here I need only mention that he did
get returned by three votes, and that the failure of his
opponent to defeat him led to a break-up of the Ministry.
Gordon was elected a member of Parliament for the
Victoria district of South Australia as a colleague of John
Riddoch, who was to be his life-long friend, in March 1865.
The Blythe Cabinet as a consequence of the defeat of its
Attomey-Creneral resigned on March 16. Gk)rdon took
his seat in Parliament on May 24. Turner and Suther-
land give us the following picture of his life in Adelaide.
** Meantime he had rented a cottage at Glenelg, a ram-
bling, one-storey building, in Penzance Street, close to the
sea, for which the poet had much affection . It was a weather-
board place but roomy, and it stood in about three acres
of land, partly occupied by an old orchard, and partly
adorned by a number of large and much contorted gum-
trees. He was able to ride or walk into town without
difficulty, and regularly started ofi about nine in the
morning for the Parliamentary buildings. The House
never met till late in the afternoon, but in Gordon's eyes
the good library to which he now had access was a strong
attraction. So soon as the room was open he used to
settle himself down for a long day*s enjoyment. He read
the poets with untiring zeal, but made likewise long
incursions into the realms of history. A good book of
travel or exploration would keep him absorbed with out-
stretched legs beside a window, while the lengthening
spring days went by, in that silent room of which in the
forenoons he was the only frequenter.
** Then it was a pleasant change when the members began
to drop in, to take their places in the chamber of the House
of Assembly. It was then, as it still is, I believe, the
44 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
custom in that House for membeis to have small writing
tables in front of their seats. Each pair of members has
such a table with drawers and writing conveni^ices.
Gordon and his colleague for the district, John Riddoch,
of Yallum, shared a table in this fashion, and an intimacy
thus sprang up which was one of the few lucky features
of the poet's life; for in this way he secured a sincere,
sensible, and warm*hearted friend, whose influence was
always favourable throughout the rest of his life."
The AdoerHser, a great South Australian paper, much
interested in (cordon, has preserved a few ^of Mr. Riddoch's
reminiscences of the poet.
Mr. Riddoch often used to ride out with Gordon. ^* He
would mumble away in the saddle with his thoughts far
away, and it was absolutely impossible to get anything out
of him then. I remember when he wrote *' The Stockrider *
at Yallum. He climbed up a gum-tree near my house, as
he often did when he wanted to be quiet, and composed it
there. He generally went out after breakfast when he
had a poetical fit and evolved his verses. Of course, he
was a highly educated man, notwithstanding his joining
the police force and going in for horse-breaking. His
eyesight was remarkably good at night; in fact he could
read the smallest print by moonlight. I remember on
one occasion he inscribed the Lord's Prayer on a fourpenny
bit. Of course, that was in the daytime."
As for his political experiences, he was not in Parliament
very long. He stood as a candidate for legislative honours
in 1865. He was immensely popular everywhere he went.
He had a remarkable memory, and after listening to a
speech could repeat it all off almost word for word. He
used to amuse himself when the House was sitting in writing
verses and making sketches, but he did not find the
political atmosphere particularly congenial. Immediately
after he resigned his membership he went over to West
Australia, where he did a little exploring and he took up
some land there. He bought sheep and put them on it, but
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THE LIFE OF GORDON 45
the country was unsuitable, and the man he left in charge
knew nothing about sheep-fanning, the result being that
Gordon lost all he put into the venture. He often used to
tell me at the time he was riding, and he was a scrupulously
straight rider, how the public used to follow his mounts,
and he would smile sadly as he said, ^* They would not be
so eager to do so if they knew how often I hoped for a fall."
In his first session of Parliament Gordon never missed
a sitting. He found the proceedings very dull, but he
enlivened them by drawing caricatures. He spoke nine
timies, but without any real success, though his views on
the land question were sound and are now incorporated
in the South Australian system. But in the recess he
covered himself with real distinction. For he trained a
little horse called Cadger, which he afterwards owned,
for the Adelaide steeplechases and rode him himself in the
big race on September 20. Cadger won, thanks to
Gordon's nerve and judgment and perhaps not a little to
his knowledge of the animal, which he had acquired during
the training. He had long had a reputation as a steeple-
chaser in the South-Eastern part of the colony, and now
it spread over the whole of South Australia.
Yet this may, as Turner and Sutherland point out, have
been the beginning of Gordon's downfall. He bought
Cadger, though he had already two riding horses in his
stables and certainly could not afiord it, and his mind
began to turn to racing in Melbourne, the Magnet of the
Australian turf, which he had never yet visited. He was
so magnetised with the racing in Victoria that in the
second Parliamentary vacation, 1865, he took a trip to
Ballarat. He bought a black horse called Ballarat, bred
by a western district squatter, Mr. Neil Black of Glen-
Oimiston, put finishing touches on the horse's traim'ng as
usual, and entered him for a handicap steeplechase. Riding
steadily and cautiously he came in an easy winner against
an excellent field and established his name as a steeple-
chase rider in Victoria. This inspired him to take Cadger
46 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
to Melbourne tor the New- Year's Day races of 1866.
Gordon rode him himself, but the horse was not of suflBicient
calibre to win a first-class event at Melbourne, and came in
nowhere. So Gordon went back to his Parliamentary
duties in South Australia in a chastened frame of mind.
He persisted with them until November 20, though he
grew more and more bored, and then sent in his resignation.
His station property, which had at first brought him in a
large return, had gone from worse to worse and he did not
care enough for politics to continue in Parliament when
he could not afford it.
He had also hopes of making an income by literature.
BeWs Life in Melbourne had, in August 1865, published a
poem called *' Visions in the Smoke," which forms the first
part of his '' Hippodromania, or Whiffs from the Pipe," one
of Gk)rdon's best racing poems, and this had been followed
in October and November, 1865, by seven Fyttes of the
scries, called " Ye Wearie Wajrfarer," the sporting poems
with an English background, full of Gordon's picturesque
and proverbial sayings, which are more quoted than any-
thing else he ever wrote. The last Fjii^e does not seem to
have been published until a year later, about the date of
Gordon's resignation from the South Australian Parliament.
And the same year he published two more parts of '^ Hippo-
dromania," which Turner and Sutherland justly charac-
terise as *' purely racing pieces, with no pretence of poetry in
them, though they have a certain cleverness of their own."
In Adelaide, Tenison Woods had several long talks
with him. Gordon seemed somewhat desponding and at
a loss to employ his time. He hinted that his fortune was
not what it was thought, and said he could not afford to
be idle ; he spoke of trjring to get a literary appointment
on a newspaper and had made up his mind to resign his
seat in Parliament and go to live in Melbourne.
^'He had at this time published more verses, made
quite a name. He was very proud of these efforts, and I
noticed more self-assertion and, if I may use the expression.
THE LIFE OF GORDON 47
more personal vanity about his talents than ever I observed
before. He said among other things that he was sure he
would rise to the top of the tree in poetry, and that the
world should talk about it before he died" (quoted from
memory).
Gordon said to Father Woods that most good talkers
were great drinkers. He was extremely temperate. This
was the last time Mr. Woods ever saw Gordon, but he heard
from him repeatedly until ^^ the dreadful news reached me
of the manner in which he had put an end to his career.
I must say, however, that it did not surprise me. In
my intercourse with him of late years I had noticed a
morbid melancholy growing more and more upon him.
My own opinion is that he had kept up appearances until
pecuniary and legal embarrassments came upon him, and
thai gave way to despair." Father Woods remarks that
Gordon's difficulties could not have been great, but he
could not bear that any one should know his real position.
As soon as he resigned from Parliament, Gordon went
to look at his purchase in West Australia. He could do
notjiing for it, but it cured him of his old dream of settling
in West Australia till much later in his life, when he began
to contemplate it again, chiefly to get rid of the undesirable
associations he had formed in racing. His wife had
presented him with a son,^ just before he started. He spent
several weeks in West Australia, camping out, and on his
return in the beginning of 1867 gave up his cottage at
Glenelg and went to live again near Mount Gambier,
hoping to find enough to subsist on in the remains of his
forbme and what he could make out of literature. He did
not begin promisingly. The first poems he published
were the two remaining parts of *^ Hippodromania."
''Banker's Dream'' appeared on April 20, 1867, and
*' Ex Fumo Dare Lucem," which appeared on August 8,
1867. This last did contain some touches of poetry, but
^ Aocoidisg to Mrs, Gordon, a daughter, Annie Lindsay Gordon. The
child died at Ballarat, and the tombstone, I belieye, is erected to a daughter.
48 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
as a whole not up to his best standard. ^^ Banker's Dream "
was a mere racing piece. He had previously in the first
days of the AiMtrcUasian^ which was founded in 1866, pub-
lished a poem called '" The Old Leaven/' about on a level
with ^^ Ashtaroth." Mr. Sutherland sees in the piece called
^^ Frustra/' published in January 1867, the first proof that
Gordon " could rank with the masters in the music of his
lines."
In August 1867, "Whither Bound," now called
" Quare Fatigasti," appeared in the Atutralasian.
Metrically, it is an advance on the fine poems in " Ye
Wearie Wayfarer," but it appears to me less original and
less interesting. A month later, in September 1867, he
collected the poems he had published into a thin paper
volume entitled, Sea Spray and Smoke DrijU at his own
expense. Mr. Sutherland says that the five hundred
copies cost him about fifty pounds to produce, which was
outrageously dear considering that they were imbound.
Less than a hundred were sold, and with the exception of
BeWa Life^ he tells us, none of the Australian journals
took any notice of the slender volume except that in one
or two cases a contemptuous paragraph appeared. There
were some fine poems in the volume besides those which
had already been printed. " Podas Okus," on the death
of Achilles, is a poem of which Swinburne himself might
have been proud. " From Lightning and Tempest "
is a little gem which ought to find its way into every
anthology. " The Last Leap " is graceful and pathetic;
The Song of the Surf " contains some magnificent lines.
Wormwood and Nightshade" is the equal of '^ Quare
Fatigasti," mentioned above. But apart from these,
any volume which contained the eight Fyttes of " Ye
Wearie Wayfarer," " Visions in the Smoke," " Ex Fumo
Dare Lucem," and "' The Roll of the Kettledrum" ought to
have been assured of the warmest welcome from a horse-
loving community like the Australians. They are like
the Book of Proverbs to the Australians now-a-days. A
44
44
THE LIFE OF GORDON 49
few months later, Gordon published ** Ashtaroth,'* and I
think it was small blame to the Australians that hardly
a copy was sold. ^* Ashtaroth ** ought never to have
been written, and ought never to have been published
when it was written. Gordon was not capable of carrying
out such a conception. It was this year, 1867^ which at
its close saw Gordon making a fresh attempt to stem the
inevitable tide of bankruptcy. Craig's Hotel, the prin-
cipal hotel in Ballarat at that time, had fhie stables and a
good livery stable business in connection with it. This
pdut of the concern was to let, and Gk)rdon, knowing that
it had a large turnover, and trusting to his local popu-
larity and large connection with horsey people, determined
to lease it for eight pounds a week. He moved his
family into a six-roomed cottage out near Lake Wendouree
and took over the business. Though he had to buy some
new horses, food was cheap and the business might have
been made to pay well if Gordon had kept his accounts
properly and induced people to pay them, but he was
careless on his side and his customers were remiss on theirs,
so money did not come in sufficiently fast to meet current
expenses* After a while, Gordon took into partnership,
not a steady man with a good banking account and business
habits who could have kept the books on a proper basis,
while Gordon kept the customers in a good humour, but
a young man as unbusinesslike as himself, with no qualifica-
tions for the business except that he was one of the best
amateur horsemen in the Colony. To make matters
worse, in the middle of 1868 a horse smashed Gordon's
head in against one of the gateposts of his own yard, an
aoddent from which he took a long time to recover.
It was while he was at Ballarat that his child died.
On October 6, 1868, he wrote to John Riddoch —
"" I wrote you a short note a few days ago, and promised
yon a longer one. Mrs. Gordon went away by the steamer
Penola* She was anxious to get a change, and I was glad
for many reasons that she should go away for a time.
50 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
'* I gave up the stables on the first of this month. I
have paid altogether £850 for rent. Let me tell you some
good news now before I go to the bad. I have had some
money left to me by the deaths of my father's first cousin,
and of my grandmother. I ought to have received it
long ago. It is not much, but it will set me straight.
^^ I heard last mail from . He wants me to go home
to England. It seems I am the nearest heir to an entailed
estate called Esslemont in Scotland. He thinks it a
certainty, but I fancy there is a flaw in the entail.
Huntly Gordon, the last owner, left it by will to his
daughter, and as the flaw in the entail has not been proved,
wants me to go home and appeal against the will.
*' I do not think I shall go, even if I could get the estate ;
having no male heir, it would be of no use to me beyond my
lifetime, and that is very uncertain.
^* I have been awfully bothered about money difficulties ;
but I think I have now paid off everybody but you and
Lawson (mortgage). Getting in the money that is still due
to me here is very difficult. But I have sold off everything,
and though many things were sacrificed, I did not do so
badly after all.
((
The stables have been very badly managed, and
Mount, though a well-meaning fellow, has a head worse, if
possible, for business than mine. But after that bad fall
of mine, I was bound to leave the books entirely in his
hands, and a pretty mess he made of the accounts. I could
hardly have done worse myself.
^' Since that heavy fall of mine I have taken to drink.
I don't get drunk» but I drink a good deal more than I
ought to, for I have a constant pain in my head and back.
I get so awfully low-spirited and miserable, that if I had
a strong sleeping-draught near me, I am afraid I might
take it. I have carried one that I should never awake
from.
^^ You will perhaps be awfully shocked, dd fellow, to see
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THE LIFE OF GORDON 51
me write in this strain ; but I am not exaggerating, in the
least. If I could only persuade myself that I am a little
mad, I might do something of that sort. I really do feel
a little mad at times, and I begin to think I have had more
trouble than I can put up with, I could almost say more
than I deserve, though this would probably be untrue."
In August 1868, the arrival of some money from home
had enabled him to clear out of the livery-stable business,
and he again had to face the problem of how to make a
liying. The only way that presented itself outside of
literature was riding in steeplechases combined with a
little training, and at this he had considerable success.
b this he owed much to Major Baker, afterwards Sir
Thomas Durand Baker, one of the heroes of Kandahar,
who was at this time Deputy Assistant Adjutant-General
ior Australia and New Zealand.
It was on October 10, 1868, that he won his first great
face in Melbourne, the Melbourne Hunt Club Cup, on
Major Baker's Babbler, and he made the day the most
successful day of his life, by winning two other steeple-
chases, the Metropolitan on his own horse, Viking, and the
Selling Steeplechase on his game little horse. Cadger.
He had not a single fall in either race. The only fly in
the ointment was that he sell the faithful Cadger for the
Ughest bid— £40.
CoQceming this day's meeting the Melbourne Argiu
wiote —
"Saturday, October 10, 1868.— ^The Melbourne Hunt
(^Qb Steeplechase was run on the Melbourne Course. The
Electing, though not quite so largely attended as usual, was
A successful one, and no serious accidents occurred. . . .
Some of these races were very closely contested, though
&e principal event, the Hunt Club Cup, was won easily
hy Babbler. Standard-bearer, a perfect outsider, won the
Hurdle race; Viking, the Metropolitan Steeplechase, and
Playboy the Military Cup. The Selling Steeplechase was
E2
52 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
won by Cadger; his owner, Mr. Gordon, was extremely
successful, riding the winning horses in three out of the
five events which composed the programme. ... in point
of fact, everybody seemed to be really tolerably satisfied ;
Mr. Gordon, we should think, most of all. To win three
races, one of them the big thing of the day, in one afternoon
does not happen very frequently to a man in his lifetime."
It was Gordon's misfortune that his victories as a steeple-
chaser did not come soon enough for him to enjoy them
properly, much as he may have heea delighted by the first
of them. Once more a career was open to him if he could
have grasped it. For this triple victory at the Melbourne
steeplechases on October 10, 186B, made him the most
popular steeplechase rider in the country, and it was the
custom in those days for the winning owner to halve the
stakes with the amateur rider who took no fee ; he had a
great reputation as a trainer for putting the finishing
touches on a steeplechaser, and the Australasian was
eager to take sporting reports from him as well as sporting
poems. He was also in an exceptionally good position
for making money by betting on himself. For as rider
and trainer combined he knew if his horse could win, and
if the horse had it in him, (rordon was almost invincible
in a steeplechase. Even his readiness, his almost eagerness
to die, gave him some sort of an advantage. But early
in his career in Melbourne he began to take a strong dislike
to steeplechasing, not for the terrible accidents he saw in
it because he was singularly fortunate for a long while in
avoiding them himself, from the habit learned from old
Tom Oliver of picking a panel where the other horses did
not get in his way, and humouring his horse over the
jumps, while his rivals put themselves out of the running.
Gordon for all his recklessness rode with great patience
and judgment.
The part he hated about steeplechases was the company
and the temptations into which they forced him. As
people grew into the habit of backing Gordon's mount for
THE LIFE OF GORDON 53
his riding and not this or the other horse for its speed or
jumping^ the black sheep of the betting fraternity began
to make overtures to him to sell himself.
In a letter to John Riddoch in the AtUobiographical
Letters, quoted in the Australasian from the Adelaide
Advertiser^ and written about this time» he says : ^^ I
ride for money now, and if I were to stop a little longer
at this game I should not be so particular as I ought to be»"
and he goes on to say : ^^ If you could find me any sort of
work that I could earn enough to live by and keep my wife
in clothes and bread, I will swear against ever going near
a raoe-course again, if you like. I am heartily sick of the
life I have been leading, and I do not even care for riding.
The only ride that I have really enjoyed since my last fall
was the hunt in which Mrs. Gordon rode so well alongside
of me.
^* I ought to have made some money latdy, for fortune,
as if tired of persecuting nie, has given me a turn in many
ways, but I have not done nearly so well as I ought to
have done. I have had no heart to back my luck, and I
wi^t not have such an opportunity again. If I made a
little money I should be quite contented to leave this gay
and festive scene, which I find awfully wearisome. I am
better than I was, though I have been ailing on and off
with headache and pains in the back, but I am getting used
to these, and they come and go pretty much as they like.
I am certainly stronger in some ways than I was. Physi-
cally I am not weak; as far as muscular action goes I can
take as much exercise as ever when the fit is on and the
headache off. I have been very temperate lately, and do
not smoke quite so much, though I do it more than I
ou^t. I am rather a good groom when I choose to work,
which is not always. I am much better than I was;
having some occupation is a great thing, and I write for
the Australasian in my spare time, though I have not
finished a single article yet. I am not fit for much study
yet, though I take lots of exercise, walking several miles
54 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
before breakfast alongside of the horses, and swimming in
the Yarra.
** I am awfully sick of the life I have been leading, and the
society that I have not been able to escape from. I can
assure you that my chief reason for making that rash
venture in West Australia was a desire to escape from all
my sporting associates and begin a new life in the bush.
Still I have done no worse than I should have done if I
had kept away from here, and killed myself with running
after lost sheep and nursing doomed ones in West
Australia/'
West Australia, then and for long afterwards a terra
incognita occupying a third of the continent with one
city, two ports, a pearling station and a prison for black
convicts, had been Gordon's will-o'-the-wisp-land. He
had paid it two visits. On the first, when he had held
property in the colony for years, he camped out in the
bush for several weeks trying to find more suitable coun-
try, for his own property was worthless : he had been
induced to buy it by an interested party. He had tried
stocking a small station in West Australia with sheep,
but the country proved to have the poison-weed and the
man he left in charge of the station was incompetent,
so he lost all his money invested there.
Mr. Riddoch has recorded that in his last year he thought
of West Australia again from a desire to escape from the
racing lot by whom he was surrounded in Victoria. He
had grown to hate all the riff-raff connected with the sport
and we find him writing despondently of the sport itself :
^' You do not understand much about these things, but
you would hardly be stupid enough to do what I did —
enter a horse to be sold for £80, and ride him 7lb. overweight.
I got rather a nasty fall last Saturday riding a hack of
P.'s that he had lent to Lieutenant Simons for a small
steeplechase not worth winning. This was not my fault.
I did not want to ride the brute at all, but did not like to
refuse. Major Baker said it was a shame to make me ride
THE LIFE OF GORDON 55
a hoise that ootddn't jump, but P said, *0h, he
won't fall with Gordon, and if he wins I shall be able to
sell the brute.' Simons rode the same horse in a hurdle
race, and he fell at the first hurdle, and again at the second,
and kicked Simons and left him for dead. It is getting
near post time, so I must finish this scrawl.
** On Thursday night I was so tired that I could hardly
walk to the telegraph office, as you may suppose, and on
Friday after the race I was not much better, though I did
not f ^ it, haying imbibed too freely. Every one that was
with me swears that I was as sober as a judge, by which
I infer that every one who was with me was as drunk as
a lord. On Saturday I was very bad. The terrible reac-
tiaa, consequent upon the fatigue of that awful journey,
which excitement had kept off for a time, set in, and I
oould hardly move. I went to see a poor boy who was in
the hospital, having crossed the course and been run down
by me. I am glad to say that he is all right, having only
broken the small bone of his leg. I gave him what money
I oould afford, and the Stewards of the meeting promised
something more. Moore also will do the same; so he is
better off than he deserves, and has expressed his intention
fa) get run down again on the earliest opportunity. A
fine plucky boy he is, too, the son of a miner, I believe.
Of course, not the least blame is attached to me. It was
in the straight running at the finish of the race, and finding
the mare beat I was pulling her up but only three or four
lengths behind the two leaders. Several men and boys
iratcfaing the first two horses and not noticing me, ran
between them and me. I did all I could to pull off them,
aod did avoid some, but knocked down two only, one of
whom was hurt. Maud was beastly fat — ^as fat as your
horse Tommy. I did not want to ride her when I saw
her, but the leaps were all new and very high, and I
thought the other horses would fall or refuse, as Ingleside
was not expected to start. I think I could have beaten
Peter Simple, and none of the others could get once round."
56 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
But I must go back a little to show how extraordinary
Gordon's success in steeplechasing had been from the day
that he began to ride for Major Baker, on the Melbourne
Race-course on October 10, 1868.
Yet it was of this very 10th of October, 1868, that he had
written to his friend John Riddoch : ^^ You have no idea
how awfully sick of steeplechasing and horse riding I
am now, but when a man gets so deep into the mire it
is hard to draw back. I have to ride three races next
Saturday in Melbourne, and I am not fit to ride a donkey
now. I do not fancy I shall have any luck, but my luck
cannot possibly be worse than it has been. I would
like never to see a horse again, let alone to ride one. . . .
'' I shall miss the steamer if I write any longer, but
you shall hear from me by the next if I get through
Saturday's work. I am going to send you the New CdUmial
Monthly. It is a very good maga2ane. Marcus Clarke,
the editor, is a very nice young fellow."
It was in the Colonial Monthly that ^^ The Sick Stock-
rider " appeared first, and Marcus Clarke wrote that eloquent
preface to his collected poems which has told nine English
readers out of ten all they know about Gordon.
An article in a number of the Colonial Monthly towards
the end of 1868, written presumably by the editor, Marcus
Clarke, said: ^^(rordon is the most Australian of our
literary aspirants, a genuine unconscious tone gives life
to his work. We look forward with some pride and much
hope to the day when it will be a boast to have discerned
his genius in 1868."
He left Ballarat and his livery stable business in the
autumn of 1868 and spent October and November of that
year as the guest of Mr. Robert Power at Toorak, super-
intending the horses which Mr. Power had in training. At
the spring meeting of the Victorian Racing Club he had a
notable victory on Viking, but he did not clear as much
as he might have because he had just sold his share
in the horse for £75, but his a&irs were gradually
THE LIFE OF GOBBON 57
straightening themselves, for he wrote a letter to Mr.
Riddoch about this time in which he said : ^^ I am taking
exercise now and doing work, and I sleep pretty well and
eat fairly and only drink one glass of grog when I go to
bed. Though I smoke nearly as much as ever I never
touch opiates in any shape now, really I had so much
trouble and anxiety for a long time that I gave in at last
and got careless. I was ill, too, and all my pluck and spirits
are, I know, purely animal. I never had any moral courage,
and though I could bear up when I felt well and strong,
I had no heart when weak and ailing, and at one time I had
so many troubles pressing on me at once, that it seemed
almost impossible for me to weather them. I do not even
now realise the fact that I am so nearly clear of debt. I
do not take much pleasiure in riding now, and none at all
in racing. I did not go near the race-course on the ^ Cup '
day, nor yet on the Friday, and after the Steeplechase was
over I locked myself in one of the empty horseboxes in
the saddling paddock, and smoked a pipe while the other
races were being run, for which I have been chaffed a good
deal since by some of my acquaintances." While he
was staying with Mr. Power he wrote for his host's little
daughter one of his most popular poems, called *^ A Song
qI Autumn."
"Where shall we go for our garlands glad
At the falling of the year.'*
His next move was to go and stay with the Officers of
the r^ment which was at that time garrisoning Melbourne
at thdr barracks, while he was superintending the training
of Major Baker's Babbler for the Ballarat steeplechases.
He spent the month of December there, very popular with
the officers for his feats ot horsemanship and skill with the
gloves. Babbler, owing to Grordon's excellent judgment
in handling him, won his race, his most formidable opponent
being the handsome Ingleside, which Gordon himself
trained at one time. It was while he was staying with
58 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
them that he saw the sketch made by one of them of
him as he finished the selling steeplechase on the
victorous Cadger. Mr. George Riddoch has told in his
chapter of reminiscaices of the stratagem by which he
captured it. It now forms the frontispiece of this volume.
At the New Year's meeting at Melbourne Grordon had the
choice of riding Major Baker's Babbler; Ballarat, which
had once belonged to himself and now belonged to Mr.
George Watson, and Viking, another horse which the poet
had formerly owned, now belonging to Mr. Robert Power.
He chose Babbler, but Viking won an easy victory.
Having made a little money off his racing successes he
once more thought of West Australia, and was on the point
of going off there to take up land for sheep farming, when
the late John Riddoch asked him to spend the summer at
Yallum Park till his racing engagements began again.
The January and February he spent there gave him his
last real glimpse of happiness and prosperity and he made
use of it to write some of his best poems, ^^The Sick
Stockrider," " How we Beat the Favourite " and " From
the Wreck." When he went back to Melbourne he had
the offer of becoming a sporting Reporter of the Austral-
asian^ but as Turner and Sutherland say, ^^ it was a position
that would have taken him to every race meeting in the
country, to live in hotels, and to be thrown more than
ever into the company of those who hang round racing-
stables and betting-rooms. He knew that a weakness for
stimulants was growing upon him, and he had to fight also
against a tendency to use opiates in order to sleep at night.
He distrusted himself, and refused the offer, hoping to find
some means of earning a living which should be to him less
perilous."
Once more, on March 27, 1869, he won a notable victory
on Babbler; and he made a little by contributions to the
newspapers and horse-dealing. His wife joined him as
the year advanced and he established himself in what was
to prove his last home, the lodgings which he took at
THE LIFE OF GORDON 59
Brighton till he found a suitable piece of land for settling
on. The late Mr. Justice Higginbotham, then one of the
leaders of the Melbourne Bar, lived at Brighton,^ and his
gardener's wife, Mrs. Kelly, was able to accommodate a
married couple. It is conceivable that Mr. Higginbotham
himself suggested that the Gordons should lodge with the
Kdlys; at all events he showed his gardener's lodgers
many kindnesses, including the all-important one of lending
the poet any book from his library. Gordon spait long
hours in the garden on a seat below some bushy shrubs
reading them. His own library at the time he describes
in a letter to John Biddoch : ^^ I once had a decent little
library. My present stock comprises a Turf Bepster^ a
Victorian Buff^ about half of a religious work which came
into my hands I don't know how, a dilapidated dictionary —
the odd pages of which serve as occasional pipdights —
D(wid the Shepherd King (with the author's compliments),
which no one will borrow or steal, and a volume of my own
verses, which I can't get rid of. I am laid up to-day with
influenza. I walked to Toorak and back on Sunday and
got a chiU, and yesterday I stayed too long in the sea. I
can't stand swimming in the cold weather now like I used
to, in fact, I'm getting such an infernal old cripple that I
shan't be able to stand anything soon."
Although I have found no positive statement on the
subject, I presume that his income now arose chiefly from
^ " Rdics of Gordon. — Some interesting mementoes of the poet Gordon
wefe aeonred last week by Mr. W. Farmer Whyte, a Sydney resident,
who Tiaited Brighton, Viotoria, where Gordon died, in 1S70. These had
been in posaession of the lady with whom Gordon lodged at the time of
Ids death, and inolude the poet's bank-book (which, contrary to general
belief, shows that he was at one time possessed of considerable means),
some of Gordon's verses that have never been published, and portions of
the original draft of his * Bhyme of Joyous Garde.' It is possible that
some of the manuscripts will be exhibited in the Mitchell libnoy, Sydney.
Included among the interesting mementoes secured is a greenhide riding-
whip, said to have been made by the poet himself, and used in some of
his steeplechase rides made famous in his verses," (From a Sydney paper,
Febniaiy 1912.)
60 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
training horses. At all events, we know from Turner and
Sutheiiand that he did spend his mornings in exercising
his horses, and it seems that until quite the close of his life,
though he was so very badly off, he continued to attend the
hunts outside Melbourne. According to the same authority
he had a long swim the first thing in the morning, and in the
afternoon walked the eight miles into Melbourne and some-
times the eight miles back as well. He also joined the
Brighton Artillery Corps, which was an important step,
because the rifle with which he shot himself was served
out to him as a member of the corps.
Meanwhile he was writing poetry. The fine poem *' De
Te,'' which was almost prophetic of his suicide, belongs to
this period.
It was one of Grordon's chief misfortunes that whenever
he seemed to be settling down to a period of comparative
peace and prosperity, something fresh, which looked like
very great good fortune, occurred to fling him back into
the toils of desperation. This time it was the seeming
certainty of having inherited a fine estate.
He had for some little time past been head of the im-
portant and distinguished Scottish family of Gordon of
Hallhead and Esslemont, but the cousin whom he had
succeeded as titular head of the family had broken the
entail and settled the estate on his niece, taking advantage
of a change in the Scottish Law of Entail.
** That barony of Esslemont, which his great-grandfather
had bought a century before, and strictly entailed, in the
hopes of founding a landed family," say Turner and Suther-
land, ** was the direct cause of Grordon's death in 1870.
It was a fine estate, now worth two thousand a year, and
had for a long time been in the possession of a Mr. Huntly ^
Gordon who, on his death, bequeathed it to his daughter,
^ The spelling of the names has been oorreoted. It was not Hnntiy
(Robert) Gordon, but his half brother, Charles Napier, who succeeded
him, that broke the entail and left the property to Ann Wolrige, according
to the Gordon pedigree drawn up by Miss Frances Gordon. Buliooh
concurs.
THE LIFE OF GORDON 61
a certain Mrs. Wdrige. If the entail was still valid this
bequest was beyond his power, for none but male heirs,
however remote, could succeed to it. . . . Nevertheless, the
lady had occupied the estate for four years ere the poet
heajxl anything of the matter. It was in October 1868
that he had a letter from England advising him to assert
his claim as being beyond all doubt the nearest heir. The
letter came as he was leaving Ballarat, but he built no
hopes upon it. He wrote back in answer, that as the lady
had held it so long, he would be disinclined to disturb her
in possession ; but he learnt, in reply, during the course
of 1869, that she was very wealthy without this estate. . . .
Gordon then threw himself into the matter with some
litUe zeal. Truly for him an unfortunate thing as
the matter turned out, for, to a mind entering on the
downward course of melancholia the utmost quietness
and freedom from feverish excitement should have been
prescribed. It was almost fatal at that time to enter on
the frets, the perplexities, the restless exhilarations and the
deep disappointments of litigation.
^' Gordon had in one regard no delusions. He did not
believe that if he should gain the estate he would have long
to live in its enjoyment. He had no son to inherit after
him, and his wife could not succeed if the estate were
truly entailed. But there were four years of accrued
income due, and if he held the estate for only a few years
he would be able to leave his wife well provided for at his
decease. He accordingly asked the advice of George
Hi^nbotham as to the most suitable firm of solicitors to
whomi he could refer the matter. He was told that as it
was a case of Scottish law he had better apply to J. C.
Stewart, of the firm of Malleson, England, and Stewart,
who was the chief authority of that kind then in Melbourne.
With the help of letters from relatives of the Gordon
connection, Mr. Stewart stated a case to be submitted to
a leading advocate in Edinburgh, one especially cognizant
of the laws of entail.
62 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
^^ Until this time Gordon refused to permit himself the
luxury of day-dreams. He discouraged any tendency to
sanguine hopes ; but in January 1870 there arrived news
which gave him every just reason to anticipate a successful
issue. The learned advocate had caused an exhaustive
search to be conducted among the registers of Edinbui^h,
whereby it became clear that the entail had never been
broken, nor, indeed, interfered with in any way. The
opinion he gave distinctly declared that Gordon's case
was sound, and that in all probability he had only to
proceed to make the estate his own.
^^ Gordon's letters now show a change of feeling. He is
quite sure of success. ^ My title/ he says, * seems dear
enough. All that the other side have to go upon is an
Act of 1848 which made entailed estates subject to the
debt bonds of the holders. Stewart has gone over the
papers and beheves that they are wrong. However, the
news by next mail ought to put the matter straight."
The news by the next mail seemed altogether satisfactory,
and Gordon had now to think of starting the necessary
litigation.
^^ That would require money, but whai the matter
seemed so sure he had no hesitation in borrowing the
necessary smn for a time. He applied to Mr. Riddoch,
and promptly received what he asked for. But it dis-
appeared in preliminary expenses. Meanwhile his wife
received news that her father was dying in South Australia ;
he had to provide money to take her round to see him. In
a couple of months all he had borrowed was gone, and he
was ashamed further to trespass on his friend's generosity.
He now began to let his debts grow ; paid his landlord in
promises, and ran up bills at the local shops. He was so
sure that in a very short time he should be able to pay
everybody. * However,' he says, ' I take little personal
comfort from the hopes of the property. It will come too
late in the day to do me any good ; and I am growing sick
of everything. And, after all, having more money than
THE LIFE OF GORDON 63
you know what to do with may be only a little better than
having none at all.'
** Cheered up by the receipt of one or two English
reviews and papers containing favourable notices of Sea
Spray and Smoke Drift^ he worked along at his book
through all the month of May (1870), waiting impatiently
for further news as to Esslemont. But the June mail, with
one fatal touch, brought down the castles of his dreams.
It had been all along known that the Act of 1848 had
abolished c^tain classes of entail, but every lawyer seemed
to have taken it for granted that it in no way affected the
barony of Esslemont. Now came the news that by a
recent decision of the Scotch law courts, sustained by the
Privy Coimdl, it had been settled that the dass of entail
to which Esslemont belonged was included in the category,
and had been swept away.
^' The matter was now settled beyond a hope, and
Gordon was left stranded with his debts accumulated
round him. In Brighton he owed about £100; he owed
the money-lender £50 ; he would shortly have to pay £80
for his new book, then nearly printed, and he owed Mr.
Riddoch £200."
To raise some money for immediate expenses Gordon
agreed to ride Major Baker's choice in the Melbourne
Steeplechases on March 12, 1870. Babbler, the horse he
had ridden so often to victory, was entered for the race, but
the Major pinned his faith on a new purchase. Prince
Rupert. Prince Rupert took the second jump, which was
a log-fence, " a little too eagerly '' and threw Gordon over
his head. In spite of the seriousness of the fall Gordon
jumped to his feet, remounted, recovered his ground and
was actually leading again when Prince Rupert fell at the
third fence, probably because Gordon was still dazed with
his fall. Gordon was again thrown very badly. Mr.
Blackmore, the Librarian of the South Australian Parlia-
ment, an old friend of Gordon's who had come to Melbourne
64 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
to see him ride, managed to get him home to Brighton,
but it was evident that he was very badly hurt, so on the
Monday Major Baker drove him into Town to get the best
medical advice. The doctor pronowiced that he had internal
injuries, but Gordon fdt his head more severely, and after
lying in bed for several days, as he could not sleep and the
rest did not seem to be doing him any good, he got up
again and resumed his usual habits. We have his own
authority in one of his letters written not long after this
for saying that he was sleeping pretty well again and eating
fairly, only having one glass of grog a day and never taking
opiates. He enjoyed talking literature at the Yorick Qub
and derived a good deal of pleasure from the society of
Henry Kendall, the other great poet of Australia, whose
acquaintance he made at this time, an acquaintance that
resulted in a mutual respect for each other's works. In
May 1870 he seems to have received the highly apprecia-
tive notice of his first volume. Sea Spray and Smoke Drift,
which had been contributed to Baily^e Magazine by Major
Leveson, the Old Shikarri.
About this time he wrote to John Riddoeh —
'" If I last I shall come into that place, I feel sure, but I
could not stand going through the court or being otherwise
exposed. If I've been a great ass I have gone through as
much trouble in one way as I can bear. Indeed, had it not
been for my wife I should have got out of my trouble some-
how before this. I don't think the next world is worse
than the present, and if I got a little more desperate I'm
sure my wife would be better without me. You, who are
differently constituted altogether, cannot perhaps under-
stand how a man who has always be#n naturally reckless
feels when he gets in a hole, especially if the man is also
naturally vain. If I had just enough to keep my head
above water now I can see my way to make a little, though
I am not sure that I could do it. I find my head faiUng
me sometimes, and cannot write sometimes when I want
to do it. There is not much to be made with the pen, but
THE LIFE OP GORDON 65
I could have made something if I had not been worried so.
I enclose you a letter of Kendall's (in fact two, as I have
them both by me). He is reckoned the best critic of poetry
here, and he is certainly the best poet. A. C. Swinburne
has sent him a most complimentary letter upon a work of
his which went home — ^indeed, a sort of rhapsody. I have
no great opinion of Kendall's judgment myself, but he
certainly writes well.
*^ I got Kendall's letters back. The English maga2dne
Baily of last arrival had a very favourable review of one
of my old works, Sea Sprays but I have made a mess of
this present publication which is now in type. I expected
to get it done cheaper, and did not try to dispose of it in
time. Writing verse spoils one for writing prose. You
can't do the two things together, so I have not been
able to write for the Australasian. Indeed, I have
had no humour, and I can't write when I don't feel
inclined."
Tamer and Sutherland tell us that he worked hard at
the production of his last volume, Btish BaUads and
Galloping Rhymes^ all through May 1870, though he
was impatiently awaiting the verdict of the Edin-
burgh authorities about Esslemont, '^but the June mail
with one fatal touch brought down the castles of his
dream."
(Sordon was prostrated by the news. It was not that his
debts amounted to a very large sum of money. Mr. John
Biddoch, far from pressing for his two himdred pounds,
would certainly have helped Gordon through his difficulties
generally, if Gordon had given him the opportunity. Mr.
Geoffge Riddoch, equally generous, has told me himself
that he was unaware that Gordon owed any money, though
he knew that he was in poor circumstances. He would
have been only too glad to put him straight. But Gordon
took no one into his confidence.
I have not been able to discover the precise day on which
Gordon received the bad news about Esslemont, but from
66 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Mr. George Riddoch I gather that it must have been a very
short while before his death. He did not tell me this in
so many words, but implied it in what he told me about
the reception of the news at Yallum. '' I was living at
Nahang station at that time/' said Mr. Riddoch* '' and I
went down to visit my brother, the late John Riddoch of
Yallum Park. Something was said about Gordon, and
my brother mentioned that he had just got the news that
the Esslemont business had been decided against Gordon.
On the morning that he shot himself, I said to my brother,
* Don't you think I ought to ask Gordon up, it is not safe
for him to be in Melbourne after this.' My brother said,
* It's no good your asking him, he's promised to come up
here soon.' When this conversation was taking place
Gordon was dead, having shot himself early in the morning,
and a little later, John Riddoch got a telegram from Robert
Power from Melbourne saying that Gordon had shot himself
that morning."
'" Dispirited by chronic bodily ailments," said Mr. F.
Marshall in the Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News,
^' which more or less affected him from his salad days, he
gave way to the black feelings of despair which had at
times clouded his existence, and at last, imitated the
* Viking Wild ' in Longfellow's * Skeleton in Armour * "
(a favourite theme of his, he may have recited it in his
Prestbury Nights' Entertainments at Tom Oliver's), '" and
put an end to his own existence with a rifle bullet . . .
having previously written a Prose Essay on ^ The Propriety
and Benefit of Suicide.' • • , In Gordon's case, it is certain
that his stomach had a great deal to do with his evil
tempers and recklessness, for he suffered intermittently
from hjrpochondria, restdting from a compUcation of
disorders existing from the date of his youth. He was
never free long from inconvenience and pain, although he
tried to ignore the symptoms.
**' To a man of his heroic mould and temperament, the
very consciousness of such a serious rift in the lute was
THE LIFE OF GORDON 67
moie than dispiriting, it was exasperating; and the
initiated can, with this terrible indicator to guide him,
easily detect one of the Causae Causantes, of his reckless-
ness, hopelessness, and despair. Was he for a little while
elate, and unoccupied ? ' Adsum ' whispered his Incubus,
freeong his hilarity and bonhommie, dimming his vision,
and rousing the devil in him."
" Ah ! sad, pioud Gordon ! crossing swords with Care,
And touching hands so many times with Death,
That Death at last came, kissed him unaware,
And laid him sleeping with one quick-drawn breath.
In that green grave upon the sunny slope
Facing the seas he loved, whose simple stone
Looks out upon the world that held his hope
And back upon the bush he made his own." {Will Ogilvie.)
It was an extraordinarily dramatic end to a dramatic life,
that (vordon should have carefully corrected the proofs of
his last book and attended to the last business in connection
with its publication, and then, without waiting a day,
should have put an end to his existence. I think he must
have meant to live just long enough to make sure that the
book would come out, as he desired, and then desired not
to live any longer. He did enjoy one fascinating draught
of criticism, for Kendall, his generous rival, had written
his review from the proofs of Bush Ballads and Galloping
Rhymes for the Aiislralasian^ and Gordon had been shown
a proof of the review, two columns long.
Dramatic^ too, is the ordinarily received account of the
way he spent the last day of his life. First he went to his
publishers and asked for the bill for the publication of his
book. He knew about what it wotdd be, but he felt
prostrated when he saw it. Then he met Marcus Clarke,
who was full of congrattdations, and invited him to have
a drink. Both cheered him up as did the sight of Kendall's
review. Soon afterwards Gordon met Kendall, and the
two, who had hardly any money, went into the Argus
Hotel bar, where they had a drink together and sat down
68 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
to talk till about five o'clock — the two chief poets of
Australia, both of them almost penniless. While he was
with Kendall, Gordon felt buoyed up by the excitemoit
and the stimulant, but as soon as he was alone again in
the train he recalled all his misfortunes and was attacked
by a raging headache. He spoke little to his wife at tea
and was a prey to gloom till they went to bed. Next
morning, June 28, 1870, he rose at daybreak — Jime is mid-
winter in Australia — dressed very quietly, and went out,
but his wife remembers the sensation of being kissed by
him as she lay dozing. Some fishermen saw him walking
off into the scrub with his rifle. He did not speak to them
or to any one else on the earth. The next person who saw
him found him lying with his face to the sky.
Such was the end of Adam Lindsay Gordon as it has
come down to us from tradition. Except that one account
says that on his way to take his own life he went into the
Marine Hotd to see the proprietor, a man named
Prendergast,^ who was a friend of his, and suggests that
if Prendergast had seen him he would have dreaded some
rash act and wotdd not have allowed Gordon to proceed
with his rifle.
I have, however, recently received a chapter on Gordon
jspedally written for this book by Sir Frank Madden,
Speaker of the Lower House of Parliament in the State
of Victoria. Sir Frank, who was a very intimate friend
of Gordon, says : ^' I think the story of his seeing Kendall
on the evening before he shot himself is also doubtful, as
^ " He left the house about half -past seven, called at the Marine Hotel,
and asked for the landlord, his friend Mr. Prendergast, who, unfortunately,
was not up. Unfortunately, because Mr. Prendergast would have noted
something strange in Gordon's manner, and would in all probability have
influenced him to return home. But it was not to be.
'* He passed down Park Street, and the last man to see the poet alive
was a fisherman named Harrison, who bade him 'good-bye,* to which
salutation poor Gordon, absorbed in his own terrible thoughts, made no
reply. He shortly after turned into the thick scrub. He must then
have loaded his rifle, seated himself on the groimd, placed the butt of
the rifle firmly in the sand between his feet, put the muzsle to his mouth,
• •• •
• • •
• • • •• -
• • ••• r
• •
• • •
•• • •
• • •
•••
• •
•••
• ••
•••
THE LIFE OF GORDON 69
I met him a little after four o'clock on that winter's day
and walked with him as far as St. Ealda. In justice to
him I should say that the most unlikely thing he would
do was to spend his last few shillings in drink, as he never
eared for it, and so far as I knew seldom took it at all.
He shows his contempt for it in his verses. Of one thing
I am dear, that when I left him at St. Eilda, he was
absolutdy sober, but very much depressed and melancholy.
He told me he had asked a friend to lend him £100 to
enable him to get to England, but his friend had refused
to make the advance and he was most downhearted and
despondent.
'* He told me he had finished reading the proofs of his
poems and that he would be glad if I would go to Messrs.
StiUwall & Knight's, his publishers, obtain the manuscript
and keep it as a present. I did not think when he said
present he meant memento."
One of the friends who was most prostrated by his
and wiUi a forked tea-tree twig piuhed the trigger. The boUet passed
throiigh hiB brain. But about nine o'clock in the forenoon,'* say
Tumat and Sntheriand, *'a man named Allen, while hunting up
a oow that had gone astray, was riding among the scrub at
the Fionic Point, when he saw a long form, clad in a velvet jacket,
lying in a little open glade. He was riding past, thinking the man
aaleep, when by chance the open stare of the blue eyes startled him,
and he hastily dismounted, only to discover that it was a still and rigid
body which lay there with white and uptamed face. The rifle rested
with its muzzle on his breast, and beside it a forked branch of tea-tree
with which, when the muzzle was in his mouth, he had contrived to push
the trigger. Near him were melancholy proofs of his last meditative
minutes. His soft felt hat lay with the brim uppermost, and in it were
a ahilling and his pipe. As he had sat with the wall of foliage concealing
him aU round, he had drawn a few last consoling whifEs fom his old friend
the black pipe, and mused upon the last of his coins. Apparently, what-
ever might have shaken his over-night resolution had dissolved before
that melaaoholy token of financial bitterness, and he had hesitated no
moTD, but stretched himself back for the fatal push. That instant all
was oTor, for the bullet had passed through the brain, carrying out with
it a piece of the skull, round as a shilling. The body was conveyed to the
Hotel."
TO ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
death was his old friend, Mr. Blackmore, the Clerk of the
Parliaments in Adelaide. His sister-in-law said that she
should never forget the look of utter consternation on his
face when he heard the news. He seemed stunned. It
was he who took Gordon home after his accident on
Prince Rupert. Gordon is buried in the Brighton Cemetery
near Melbourne, and his tomb is the Mecca of Australian
Literature.
Forty-two years have passed since that fatal bullet in
the scrub at Brighton cut short the career of the most
famous Australian at the early age of thirty-six. For
Gordon must be coimted an Australian though he was
bom ten thousand miles away and never touched the
shores of the great island continent till he was twenty.
He became absorbed in Australia like the Roman veterans
were absorbed by the Gaul which they were garrisoning.
No one ever thought of him as a new chum. He was a
voice from the Bush. He was the Bushman's tjrpe, the
Bushman's pride.
The forty-two years have only enhanced his fame.
If the uncritical no longer make absurd comparisons
between his poems and those of the standard poets of the
language, the critical have discovered that there is much
more in his poems than they were at first prepared to
allow; that he was no mere rhymer dashing off ringing
ballads about racing and himting and bush life, but a
strong man (of the kind who generally leave only their
deaths or their victories as memorials of their lives)
wrestling with the enigmas of life, not as literary exercises,
but as problems to decide whether it was worth while
continuing to live.
Adam Lindsay Gordon's poems, if they had no other,
would have a high value in Psychology, as the philosophy
of one who committed suicide.
But they have the supreme value of being the voice of
Australia. They are full of the grim philosophy which
makes the Australian type so indomitable. They are the
THE LIFE OF GORDON 71
Bushman's Bible, lliey are the foundation of the Bush-
man's eode.
Gordon's fame will never go back. Each year will see
it more firmly established. No harm will be done to it
by the publication in this volume of letters from the Poet
which have hitherto been held back» and which show
how wild he had been in England. Their suppression had
caused a good deal of controversy, a good deal of mis-
conception. Half the public had thought that the twenty-
year-old boy who landed in Adelaide in November 1858
was a martyr and half had thought him a villain. He was
neither. He was only a boy ^^ full of beans " kicking
against the dulness of a conventional and ultra-religious
home. Being a poet, and at that time a would-be Byron,
writing to a boy admirer, it is likely that he made himself
out much more of ^' a rip " than he really was. In any
case no Bushman will wish the poet of the wild Bush of
Australia to have been a plaster-saint in his school-days.
Every properly constituted Bushman will be more inter-
ested in Gordon than ever when he learns that from fifteen
onwards Gordon had been practising fighting in a champion
prize-fighter's saloon, and going across coimtry or over a
steeplechase course under the tuition of men who were
to win the Grand National at Liverpool several times
apiece, whenever they let him have a mount ; and they
will understand that a boy who at seventeen could give
Tom Sayers, in training for one of his big fights, a decent
practice with the gloves, and who could win a couple of
steeplechases on his own horse before he was twenty,
was likely to have got into a bit of wild company among
the patrons of the prize-fighter and the training-stable.
There we have the whole thing in a nutshell, an excep-
tionally adventurous and courageous boy going to Jem
Edwards's and Tom Oliver's to escape from the dulness of
his home. To the backers he met at either the dissipations
which leave a bad taste in our mouth, as we read of them
in his letters to Charley Walker, would be the ordinary
72 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
incidents of amusing themselves, and, whether he went
in for them himself much or not, in reality, it was natural
for a boy to write about them in a Byronic pose to his
boy chum and admirer.
I confess that I am more disgusted by the way in which
he speaks of the father, who was affectionate, liberal and
forgiving to him. It was caddish to deceive such a white-
souled Colonel Newcome as Gordon's father*
Australia was the making of Gordon. While he was
still in his early twenties we find a trace or two of the old
Adam in his letters to Charley Walker, but even here their
effect is discounted by his repentance over the dissipations of
his boyhood and his exultation overthe manliness and vigour
which the healthy open-air life of the Bush is giving him.
And very few years afterwards, when he had exchanged
the occupation of policeman for that of horse-breaker, we
find Mr. Stockdale the Squatter writing : ^^ All he knew was
that he was a good, steady lad, and a splendid rider. He
had been a mounted trooper when he came to the district,
but after serving a short time had resigned, and taken to
the employment in which I found him engaged." Mr.
Stockdale further remarked "that there was something
above the conmion in Gordon. He never drank or gambled
— ^two ordinary qualifications of bush hands in those days.
He was not exactly a favourite, because he was rather
moody and silent, and did not associate much with the men
working with him, but, being quiet and obliging, was liked."
From that time forwards we hear no more of Gordon's
dissipations. His reputation for recklessness he carried
with him to the grave. But we find the man, who was
valued and respected as a horse-breaker, and was pressed,
as soon as he had the means, to become a candidate for
Parliament in the interest of the landowners, with such a
man as John Riddoch for a colleague, vrhea monetary
difiiculties drove him out of Parliament into the occupa-
tions of amateur steeplechase rider and trainer, always
enjoying the respect and admiration of the community.
-1
THE LIFE OF GORDON 78
This feeling which he inspired is most remarkably
demonstrated in his last year or two, while he was living
in Melbourne. He was a broken man, broken in health as
well as in pocket, bnt we find him staying with the officers
of the British regiment in garrison — an honoured and
highly popular guest, and received on terms of real affection
for long stays in the households of John Riddoch and Robert
Povrer, men in the very best society of South Australia
and Victoria respectively, and writing poems for their
little daughters which have been treasured as heirlooms in
the families — ^^ A Basket of Flowers " for Miss Riddoch,
and '* A Song of Autumn " for Miss Power.
We also find him elected a steward of the Melbourne
Hunt Club, a high testimonial to his position in the
eommunity.
At the same time the few literary men there were in
Melbourne came forward to recognise that a real poet had
arisen in their midst, and place pn record their confidence
in his future fame.
Contrast his position when he was taking leave of life
^th his position when he was taking leave of England.
In 1858, though his family may not have been ashamed
of him or hostile to him, his own letters quoted in this
volume prove that his father was anxious for him to go to
Australia for two years at any rate until his neighbours
had forgotten his escapades. His achievements in England
beyond learning to box and to ride were nil, and he seemed
unable to keep out of mischief.
In his seventeen years in Australia he taught one of the
Bumliest communities in the world to look up to him for
almost everything except the capacity to make money.
To every one alike, to the richest squatter and the humblest
boundary rider in that squatter's employ ; to the family
of the Anglican clergyman, and to the Roman Catholic
priest in the district where he had spent most of his time ;
to the horsebreaker with whom he shared a hut ; to the
Stewards of the Victorian Racing Club ; to the most educated
74 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
men in Melbourne ; to the editors of the great newspapers,
and the family of the Governor of S.A., Scottish aristocrats
like himself, he seemed the soul of honour, the embodiment
of courage. He had long been recognised as the bravestand
most skilful steeplechaser in the Colonies, he was a steward
of the Melbourne Hunt Club and an honoured figure in the
hunting field ; though he was known to be desperately poor,
he was recognised as a gentleman who had come unscathed
in manners and reputation through all sorts of occupations
which would have demoralised most men, and the ordeal
of having married into the working class ; and finally every
educated man in Melbourne admitted that he was not only
the best poet who had yet published in Australia, but a
genius whose works would live. Gordon's combination
of claims on the admiration of his Australian fellow-country-
men as a magnificent type of manhood, as the Bard of the
Bush and the Race-course, and the most daring steeple-
chase rider the Colonies had ever known, has left him
without a rival in their hearts.
•
••• • •<
:".
• •
r Cap
•• • ••
• • •
«• • •
• •
CHAPTER II
FAMOUS SAYINGS OF GORDON WHICH ARE PROVERBS
AND HOUSEHOLD WORDS IN AUSTRALIA
*'No game was ever yet worth a rap
For a rational man to play.
Into whioh no accident, no mishap,
Could possibly find its way."
** And sport's like life and life's like sport,
' It ainH all skittles and beer.' "
" And, whatever you do, don't change your n
When once you have picked your panel."
mind
44
44
Look before your leap, if you like, but if
Tou mean leaping, don't look long.
Or the weakest place will soon grow sti£F,
And the strongest doubly strong."
Mere pluck, though not in the least sublime,
Is wiser than blank dismay.'*
« « « « «
Yet if once we efface the joys of the chase
From the land, and out-root the Stud,
Good-bye to the Anglo-Saxon Race !
Farewell to the Norman blood ! "
'* God's glorious oxygen."
* * * « «
" Life is mostly froth and bubble.
Two things stand like stone.
Kindness in another's trouble.
Courage, in your own."
* m m * * ♦
Why should he labour to help his neighbour
Who feels too reckless to help himself 7 "
• «««««
'* This night with Plato we shall sup."
♦ »♦♦♦♦
76
44
76 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
c<
C(
The world, the flesh, aod the devil,
Are easily undemtood;'*
And the song that the poet fashions.
And the love-bird's musical strain.
Are jumbles of animal passions.
Refined by animal pain."
* « • • « «
" Yet if man, of all the Creator plann'd,
HiB noblest work is reckoned.
Of the works of His hand, by sea or by land.
The horse may at least rank second."
'* And the fool builds again, while he grumbles,
And the wise one laughs, building again."
" Snort ! ' Silvertail," snort I when you've seen as much danger
As I have, you won't mind the rats in the straw."
'* We labour to-day, and we slumber to-morrow.
Strong horse and bold rider ! — and who knowdh more t "
'* I've had my share of pastime, and Fve done my share of toil.
And life is short — the longest life a span;
I care not now to tarry for the com or for the oil.
Or for the wine that maketh glad the heart of man.
For good undone and gifts misspent and resolutions vain,
'Tib somewhat late to trouble. This I know —
I should live the same life over, if I had to live again;
And the chances are I go where most men go."
Let me slumber in the hollow where the wattle blossoms wave.
With never stone or rail to fence my bed;
Should the sturdy station children pull the bush flowers on my grave*
I may chance to hear them romping overhead."
" I would that with sleepy, soft embraces
The sea would fold me-*wou]d find me rest
In luminous shades of her secret places.
In depths where her marvels are manifest;
So the earth beneath her should not discover
My hidden couch — ^nor the heaven above her —
As a strong love shielding a weaiy lover,
I would have her shield me with shining breast,"
***A little season of love and laughter.
Of light and life, and pleasure and pain.
And a horror of outer darkness after.
And dust r^tumeth to dust again,"
cc
FAMOUS SAYINGS OF GORDON 77
«<
«c
Thcyugh the gifts of the light in the end ace ounee,
Yet bides the gift of the darkneew — sleep ! "
For he may ride ragged who rides from a wreck."
** No life is wholly void and vain.
Just and unjust share sun and nun.**
"No man may shirk the allotted work.
The deed to do, the death to die; "
cc
(«
««
€t
S«
Say only, ' God who has judged him thus
Be merciful to him, and us.*^
• *•«««
Real life is a race through sore trouble.
That gains not an inch on the goal.
And bliss an untangible bubble
That cheats an unsatisfied soul.
And the whole,
Of the rest an illegible scroll"
For nothing on earth is sadder
Than the dream that cheated the grasp.
The flower that turned to the adder.
The fruit that changed to the asp.'*
The soft grass beneath us gleaming.
Above us the great grave sky."
Though we stumble still, walking blindly,
Our paths shall be made all straight;
We are weak, but the heavens are kindly.
The skies are compassionate."
" Is the clime of the old land younger,
Where the young dreams longer are nursed t
With the old insatiable hunger.
With the old unquenchable thirst."
" Vain dreams 1 for our fathers cheiish'd
EKgh hopes in the days that were;
And these men wonderM and perish'd.
Nor better than these we fare."
78 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
((
Let us thank the Lord for His bountiee all.
For the brave old days of pleaaiue and pain,
When the world for both of us seem'd too small —
Though the love was void and the hate was vain, '
'* And how the Regiment roared to a man."
'* Yet th* Elysian halls are spaoious.
Somewhere near me I may keep
Boom — who knows ? — ^The gods are gracious;
Lay me lower^-*let me sleep 1 "
CHAPTER in
A TALK WITH GORDON'S WIDOW
By C. R. Wilton, M.J.L
By the kindness of Sir John Langdon Bonjrthon, Editor
and proprietor of the (Adelaide) Advertiser ^ who from the
very first detected the greatness of Gordon and was the
original publisher of much of the most important informa-
tion which we have about him, and of the author, Mr. C. R.
Wilton, M. J.I., I am able to give the latter's ^^ Talk with
Gordon's Widow/' which is in many ways the most human
document which has yet appeared about (rordon.
This is the first time that any account of Gordon by his
widow has appeared in a book, and peculiar interest
attaches to everything which she has to say about him.
There is no doubt that to her we owe, more than to any one
else except the poet himself, Gordon's poems. Her
prudence kept a roof above his head ; her tender care and
soothing influence prolonged his life. When he was in the
mood for composing she effaced herself and devoted her
attention to ensuring for him the quiet that he needed.
She was his companion in the field — ^as daring a horse-
woman as he was a horseman, as we know from Gordon's
own letters. ^^ I could get a long price for him, but do
not like to sell him for two reasons ; firstly, Margaret (my
wife) has taken a fancy to him and wants him for a hack,
and then I would like to see him go in a steeplechase, as he
is fast and capital bottom, and it would surprise the
Melbourne man so to see him go well over fences. Margaret
is a good horsewoman. She and I rode out from Adelaide
to Mount Gambier and six days on the road, a distance
more than three hundred miles, which made an average of
79
80 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
fifty miles per day. This sounds strange, but it is a fact,
and she was not very tired either^ She rode a little white
pony mare, an Arab called Fairy, a great pet of hers, and
I was on my favourite hack, Ivanhoe, the winner of two
steeplechases (at Guichen Bay and at the Mount), a fine
horse and a beautiful jumper, but bad bottom/'
How much Gordon depended on her is shown by a letter
he wrote to John Riddoch on October 6, 1868, about their
life in Ballarat.
^^Mrs. Gordon and I did all the work between us.
Indeed, she did a great deal more than I, all through the
troubled time. She has worked like a trump ; although I
never told her how desperate things were looking with me*
she suspected that much was wrong, and she tried hard to
cheer me up and keep me straight, and did not worry me.
She has more pluck in her little finger than ever I had in
my whole body.
^'When I lost the Ballarat Hunt Cup on Maude, I
thoroughly gave in, and refused to ride Cadger for the
Selling Steeplechase, saying that it was no use. She said,
^ Don't give in like that, old man ; you've gone too far to
back out now, and no one else can ride the horse. It's
only a small stake, but every shilling is of consequence to
us now. I was always against racing, but you've taken
your own way, and now you must carry it out.'
'^ So I rode Cadger and won. Then Viking won the
hurdle race. So I didn't do so badly.
^' You have no idea how sick of horse-racing and steeple-
chasing I now am ; but when a man gets so deep into the
mire, it is hard to draw back. I have to ride three races ^
in Melbourne next Saturday though I am scarcely fit to
ride a donkey at present.
'r 'r 'r ^n 'r ^P
'* When I parted from my wife on the pier and saw the
steamer take her away I felt sure I should never see her
again; and when I got back to Ballarat, and went into
1 He won them all, October 10, 1868.
A TALK WITH GORDON^S WIDOW 81
the empty house, I was very low-spirited. I used to
smoke all night long. I could not sleep, and had to take a
stiff nobbier in the morning. But I got through my work
somehow, and settled up all my business.''
And in a letter written to Mr. George Riddoch from North
Brighton on July 21, 1869, he says : "" Mrs. Gordon was out
once on Badger, since sold for £80 to a Ballarat man.
She rode him very well ; she was out once since on a mare,
but she did not follow on the second occasion." Mr. C. D.
Mackellar, a large Australian landowner, and others who
have met her since Gordon's death, testify to her refine-
ment and charm, and what is even more gratifying, to the
undying veneration which she and the members of her
second family cherish for Gordon. Indeed, Mr. Mackellar
says that he was informed locally that in annoimdng the
births of her children she always described herself in the
newspapers as, "' wife of Peter Low and widow of Adam
Lindsay Gordon," as peeresses in England who are left
widows retain their titles if they marry again to a man of
lower rank.
In the (Adelaide) Advertiser, March 28, 1912, Mr. Wilton says
Although Adam Lindsay Gordon, the greatest of Aus-
tralian poets and the most famous, died in June 1870, his
widow survives. She is a pleasant-looking and cheerful
lady. Although barely five feet high she is well propor-
tioned and alert, (rordon was six feet high, although he
only scaled ten and a half stone. His widow carries her
years extremely well, and might reasonably be taken from
her appearance to be twenty years younger than the
calendar proves her to be. She was bom in Glasgow, and
came out to South Australia as an infant. Her father was
Mr. Alexander Park, who when he landed originally in
Victoria carried on a baker's business in Melbourne, but
shortly afterwards crossed the border and accepted an
engagement on the station of the late Mr. W. Hutchinson,
near Robe. It was at that salubrious seaside resort about
o
82 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
the year 1868 that Miss Maggie Park first met Gordon, who
was then residing at Mount Gambier, but who travelled all
over the South-Ejast with his racehorses. Mr. David Mack,
caretaker of the Government Offices, relates that when
he entered the mounted police thirty years ago Sergeant
Campbell, who was then in charge of the Adelaide barracks,
and who was a comrade of Gordon's when he joined the
force shortly after his arrival in this city in November
1858, told him that the poet was the most fearless horse-
man he ever saw. When he was given a summons to
deliver or a warrant to serve Gordon scorned to travel on
the road. He went straight across country, and put his
unschooled troop horse at the barrack yard fence and
the posts and rails round park lands with as much sang-
froid as though he were mounted on the most expert
steeplechaser. He was sent to Mount Gambier as a police
trooper, and his horsemanship there was as reckless as it
had been in the city. The discipUne of the police was not
congenial to him, and he resigned after about two years'
service. He then gave himself over entirely to his horses,
and he loved to tackle the fiercest buck-jumper which
came in his way. His delight was to ride at a headlong
pace in steeplechases or hurdle events. He would not
compete on the flat. He had many bad falls, and an
accident of a particularly serious nature occurred to him
at Robe just after he met Miss Park. She herself was a
daring horsewoman, and she enthusiastically admired the
firm seat and the intrepid riding of Gordon. When he
was injured she tenderly nursed him, and soon after he
was convalescent he asked her to marry him.
Gordon and his Child Wife.
** I was just eighteen years when we were married,"
said the lady in an interview on Friday. ^^ Mr. Gordon
was then riding horses at Robe, and among the best re-
membered of them were Cadger, Viking, and Ingleside.
In the well-known picture in which he is seen clearing a big
A TALK WITH GORDON'S WmOW 88
fence (see p. 50), the horse is Viking. We were married in
1864, and I first met him about twelve months before that.
I stayed with Mr. Bradshaw Young, then sergeant of poUce
at Mount Gambier, for a little while before the wedding,
which took pla^e at the residence of the Rev. John Donn,
a Presbyterian Minister, who performed the ceremony.
Mr. Gordon and I lived for a time in Mount Gambier.
Shortly after our marriage Mr. John Riddoch induced my
husband (he had just previously inherited about £7,000
from his mother) to stand for Parliament. He took little
interest in political affairs, but he consented to the invita-
tion, and he started on his election campaign. He had
many friends in the district, and on March 1, 1865, he was
returned at the head of the poll, with Mr. John Riddoch as
his colleague."
Poetry and Politics.
The defeated candidate on the occasion, it may be
mentioned, was the late Hon. Randolph Stow, then At-
torney-General, and afterwards a judge. The election
created the utmost interest. Among the gentlemen who
canvassed the district for Gordon and Riddoch was Mr.
J. H. Mack (father of Mr. David Mack). The constituency
of Victoria then, as now, included the whole of the country
between the River Murray and the Victorian border, and
there was a wide area to be travelled over. Mr. W.
Trainor, the well-known cross-country rider, who had long
been an intimate companion, rode with (rordon during
the greater part of his election campaign, and they often
had to camp out at night, for settlement was not so thick
nor were the means of communication so facile as they
are to-day. Instead of thinking of serious public affairs,
however, Gordon was as usual scribbling poetry most of the
time. He used to throw one leg over the saddle while he
was riding, in order to rest his paper upon it, and while he
was engaged in composition it was no good speaking to him.
He would give no reply. At the best of times he was
6 2
84 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
uncommunicative, but under such circumstances he was
deaf to outside affairs. There were stirring times during
the struggle, but they were the result of the enthusiasm of
Gordon's friends. When the counting was over, and
Gordon was accorded the post of honour at the head of
poll, Penola, where he was especially popular, gave itself
over to revelry.
The Home at Dingley Dell.
" While we were living at Mount Gambier," the lady
went on, " we often visited Dingley Dell, a pretty little
cottage in a beautiful position near Port McDonnell, which
Mr. Gordon had bought. There was a nice piece of land
there, but he did no farming, although he kept racehorses
at the place. We made a summer residence of the little
cottage, which is now so well known as a tourist resort.
We stopped there a week or two at a time, and then returned
to Mount Gambier. We both liked the place, because of
the attractiveness of its surroundings.
^^ Just before the sitting of Parliament began on March
81, 1865, we removed to Adelaide, and took a house
formerly occupied by a doctor, in what is now Penzance
Street, New Glenelg, and we continued to live there until
Mr. Gordon grew tired of Parliament, and resigned. The
building has long since disappeared. There were scarcely
any houses at Glenelg then, and he travelled backwards
and forwards to Adelaide by coach. He soon became
weary of public life. He was too quiet and reserved for
that kind of existence, and the necessity of attending
regularly at the sittings of the Assembly was very irksome.
He stood it until November 10, 1866, and then he resigned,
and we went back to Robe. We stayed for some time
with Mr. Bradshaw Young, who then had charge of the
gaol at Robe. Mr. Gordon always retained his love
for horses. He never betted, and he never rode for
money, but he trained and raced horses, and that is
an expensive pastime. When he lost a race he lost money
also.
A TALK WITH GORDON'S WmOW 85
The Death of his Daughter.
"From Robe we went to Ballarat, and Mr. Gordon
bought Craig's livery stables, which were adjacent to the
well-known hotel. He rode a little also, but not much I
at that time. It was while he was at Ballarat that his
heaviest misfortunes occurred. He had a bad fall from a
young horse which he was riding, and he was so seriously
injured that he was confined to his bed for many weeks.
\^^le he was lying ill his baby daughter, who had been
christened Annie Lindsay Gordon, and was then ten
months old, died. He was passionately fond of her, and
this had a great effect upon his spirits. She lies buried in I
a cemetery near Lake Wendouree, and there is a marble
slab over her grave, but there is nothing in the inscription
to tell that she was his daughter. About this time, too,
the stables were burnt down, and several valuable horses
and a number of vehicles were lost in the flames. The
death of his child was a great blow, for he had a very
affectionate nature. He was always too good to others, and
he never thought enough of himself. Yes, if he had a fault,
it was that he was too good, too open-handed, and too
generous.
Death at Brighton.
^* The sorrow which visited us at Ballarat caused Mr.
Gordon to leave that city. We went to Brighton, about
eight miles from Melbourne, where he had resided for
eighteen months, when on June 28, 1870, the end came.
After Mr. Gordon was dead Mr. John Riddoch, of Yallum
Park, who had always been his greatest friend, came over
to Brixton and brought me back to the South-East with
him. My husband was always a welcome guest at Yallum
Park, and the family had many of his manuscripts. He
often drew sketches or wrote poetry for the young ladies
there. He used to go out in the paddocks to compose
poetry ; " Sea Spray and Smoke Drift," " Ashtaroth," and
*' Bush Ballads and Galloping Rhymes "^ were all published
^ The two fonner in 1867, the last in June 1870.
86 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
just before his death. I had the copjnights of all the books,
but I sold them about thirty years ago for a very small
sum, much less than they were worth, and since then I
have had no advantage from the sale of the books. I have
often regretted parting with the rights, but it is too late to
trouble about that now. The reviews of the poems, which
were very favourable, were published in the Melbourne
papers before Mr. (rordon died.''
A Loving Husband.
Asked to say what manner of man the poet was, the
widow replied, " I didn't take much notice of his poetry,"
and she confessed that she felt more interest in his horses
and his riding. " He never spoke much of his family," she
went on. ^' bideed, he did not speak much about anything.
He was very reticent, and he did not like any one prying
into his affairs. He was of a happy disposition, however,
and a most loving and considerate husband. He wrote
to his relatives in England often, and especially to his
uncles, and he sent our photographs ^ to them when we were
married. He thought he ought to have had the Esslemont
estate in Scotland, but the property was locked up in the
Chancery Court, and he did not get the money he considered
was due to him. He believed he was the heir, but the
court decided that there was a cousin before him. He had
intended to go to England, but this disappointment stopped
him. He was a * gentleman rider ' always, and he never
took money for his services. The horses he owned which
I remember best were Cadger, Viking, Ingleside, Modesty,
Prince Rupert, and Ballarat. Although he was so near-
sighted he always competed in steeples or hurdles, and
never rode in flat races. He was well to do when we were
married, but he lost money in racing. The melancholy and
depression from which he suffered at the end were caused
by a succession of bad falls, his baby's death, and the loss
of his property. While we were at Brighton he was
^ The actual photograph sent by Gordon to Capt. R. C« H. Gordon is
reproduced opposite p. 0.
A TALK WITH GORDON'S WmOW 87
writing poetry every evening, and in spare moments
during the day. It was always the same wherever we
were."
The Joy of Horsemanship.
Mrs. Gordon and her husband both followed the hounds
at the hunts in Melbourne, and her favourite mount was
a horse named Johnny Raw. Gordon kept the hounds at
Ballarat for a year. " I followed wherever he went," she
said proudly, ^'and I never had a fall, although he had a
good many, because of his defect of vision. Once while
we were hunting at Ballarat his horse slipped on the crum-
bling bank of a creek, and both horse and rider fell into the
stream. Mr. Gordon was nearly drowned. I got over all
right and wondered where he had gone to. He could not
see, and had to trust to his horse to take off at the proper
distance. He had many bad falls, both in the hunting
field and while racing, but he had many good wins also. He
was always ready to do what he could to help others, and
it was he who rode from the wreck of the Admella to the
nearest township just as he describes in his poem ^ The
Ride from the Wreck.' "
Gordon's Leap.
Questioned as to the famous leap across the fence pro-
tecting the road traffic from a descent of one hundred and
fifty feet into the Blue Lake, near Mount Gambler, the
lady said : " I generally went out with him when he was
riding, but I was not with him that day. It was a * pound-
ing * exhibition. The party had been challenged to jump
all the obstacles he cleared. Up till that jump the other
riders had done as well as he did. When he came to the
spot now marked by an obelisk, erected in 1887, he, in a
spirit of emulation, cleared the fence on the edge of the
lake and then jumped out again. He must almost have
turned his horse in the air, for the landing was very
narrow. No one followed him in that leap. I cannot
remember the name of the horse he rode on that occasion
nor who was with him.'' Mr. Bradshaw Young was one
88 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
of the party, and he saw Gordon leap back into the road,
although he did not see the first jump. However, there
was no way to get the horse in except by jumping, and his
attention had only been distracted for a minute.
A Wonderful Woman.
Three years after Gordon's death his widow married
Mr. Peter Low, and she and her present husband are now
living on a farm, which forms part of the old
station, near Bordertown, which once belonged to Mr.
George Riddoch. Mrs. Low is very popular in the South-
East, and she has the reputation of being an energetic and
enterprising woman. She has seven sons and daughters
living. She is still a great lover of horses. Mr. David
Mack has known her all his life. About thirty-seven years
ago he was riding with her after kangaroos on the Yallum
Park estate, when his horse put its foot in a wombat hole
and came down heavily. He broke his shoulder and sus-
tained other serious injuries, but small as she is, Mrs.
Low got him home. '^ She saved my life on that occasion,
I reckon," said Mr, Mack yesterday, and he added, *' I
have frequently seen her and her husband riding in Yallum
Park from Monbulla, an out-station formerly belonging to
Mr. T. Scott, on Mr. Riddoch's station, each of them
carrying one of their twin children on the saddle-bow in
front of them. All the sons and daughters," he went on,
" are expert pipe players. Miss Jessie Low was the first
lady pipe player in South Australia. She is married and is
living in the South-East." Mr. Mack claims to be the
youngest man living who has seen Gordon ride. His
memory of the poet is that he was a silent man, very
near-sighted. He saw Gordon ride at Penola in 1868 and
1869. He also saw Gordon mount a pony imported by
Mr. John Riddoch and exhibited at the Penola Show.
The horse had bucked every one off who had attempted to
sit him, but Gordon mounted it barebacked and stuck to
the animal despite all its violent efforts to dislodge him.
1
A TALK WITH GORDON'S WmOW 89
GordofCa Tree.
Mr. Mack, to whose introduction I was indebted for my
meeting with Mrs. Low, who came to Adelaide with her
husband for the Autumn Show, and is returning next
week, well remembers '* Gordon's tree," at Yallum Park.
Here it is believed " The Sick Stockrider," " Wolf and
Hound," and " The Bide from the Wreck " were written.
It was a gnarled old gum-tree that stood in a paddock not
far from the house. After breakfast he would climb up to
a natural arm-chair formed by a crooked limb. There he
would fill his clay pipe, and while he smoked he would
scribble with pencil on a paper spread on a branch, or
sometimes resting on his hat. While he was so engaged
meal-times would come and go without his taking any
notice. That was about a year before the poet's death.
A New Life of Gordon.
Mrs. Low states that her son, Mr. William Low, has
for some time been collecting materials for a life of the
poet Gordon, which he intends to publish. He has many
of the poet's manuscripts, some of poems not yet published.
All her children have learnt Gordon's poems and love them.
She has had repeated requests for information concerning
Gordon. Letters have come to her from all over the
Empire, but she had hitherto declined to respond to the
invitations. Naturally she has reserved all her remin-
iscences for her son's book, which, she says, will contain
a faithful story of Gordon's career in Australia, and of his
Uterary work. Mr. William Low lives with his parents
on the farm near Bordertown. Another of her sons resides
at Renmark, and her twin daughters were recently married.
Longing to See the Grave.
I have never seen the grave of Mr. (Jordon," she said,
since he was laid in it nearly forty-two years ago. Photo-
41
4(
90 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
graphs of his monument have been sent me, and messages
on the anniversary of his death, telling of visits to the spot
by his admirers. He is now more popular than ever. I
have a great desire to go to Brighton and see the grave
again."
CHAPTER IV
HOW GORDON RODE IN AUSTRALIA, AS TOLD BY
HIS FRIENDS
" If once we efiface the joys of the chase
From the land, and out-root the stud,
Good-bye to the Anglo-Saxon Race !
Farewell to the Norman Blood 1 "
Ye Wearie Wayfarer. Fytte VII
"They came with the rush of the southern surf.
On the bar of the storm-girt bay;
And like muffled drums on the sounding turf,
Their hoof-strokes echo away."
Visiona in the Smoke,
A MORE "dare-devil rider" says Mr. Hammersley^
"' never crossed a horse. As a steeplechase rider he was,
of course, in the very first rank, and his name is indelibly
associated with many of the most famous chases nm in
Victoria, although, in my opinion, and I think in that of
many good judges too, he was deficient in what is termed
' good hands,' and when it came to a finish was far behind
a Mount ^ or a Watson." " And, considering his short-
sightedness, which Mr. Woods designates as painful, this
is not to be wondered at."
Mr. Desmond Byrne says of Gordon : " In his character
as a sportsman and a rider there is an element of the ideal
which largely helps to commend him to the majority of
Australians. Though his liking for horses and the turf
became a destroying passion, there was never anything
sordid in it. He was not a gambler, for long after he had
won recognition as the first steeplechase rider in a country
^ Hairy Mount, Gordon's partner in the livery stable business at
BaUarat.
91
92 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
of accomplished riders, he declined payment for his services
on the race-track. • . . And the distaste with which he
had always viewed the meaner associations of the turf
became, at last, dislike and scorn. In the period of
disappointment that preceded his death he refused a
remunerative post on the staff of a leading Melbourne
journal because he wished to dissociate himself completely
and finally from everything connected with the professional-
ism of sport. As a bush-rider he became noted for the
performance of feats which no one else would think of
attempting. The Australians often speak and write of it
as complete absence of fear, but it surely had a large
admixture of pure recklessness. . . . There is a touching
and significant story of an acquaintance which he formed
with a young lady at Cape Northumberland and how he
ended it. We are delicately told that having become a
warm admirer of his dashing horsemanship, the lady used
to walk in the early morning to a neighbouring field to see
him training a favourite mare over hurdles. Something
more than a mutual liking for horses and racing is plainly
hinted at as existing between them. But after they had
met thus a few times Gordon asked abruptly whether her
mother knew that she came there every morning to see him
ride. She replied in the negative, adding that her mother
disapproved of racing. * Well, don't come again,' said
he, * I know the world, and you don't. Good-bye, don't
come again.' Surprised and wounded, the lady silently
gave him her hand in farewell. He looked at it as if it
were some natural curiosity and said, ^ It's the first time
I have touched a lady's hand for many a day — ^my own
fault, my own fault — ^good-bye.' "
In his letters to Charley Walker and his uncle quoted on
pages 887 to 426 Gordon has much to say about riding and
racing. Some of his friends' comments are strangely like
those of the Cheltenham sportsmen he rode with in earlier
days. Mr. Frederick Vaughan says : '^ Gordon was always
either scribbling or riding and training horses, of whom he
HOW GORDON RODE IN AUSTRALIA 98
was passionately fond, and he understood horses, their
nature, etc. Very long in the thigh, he had not a pretty
seat on a horse, but he was a marvellous rider — could ride
the rowdiest horse in the world; he was made for buck-
jumper riding, and steeplechasing teas his forte, he could
make horses jump or go through their fences, he had no
fear and although short-sighted rode his fences with great
judgment. I owe it to Grordon myself that from his
teaching I was enabled to ride a buck-jmnper, and conse-
quently able to break in my own colts and fillies in after
years.
" Gordon was no bushman, very short-sighted, and riding
about appeared always dreamy, so on occasion he got off
his road and got lost."
Apropos of this remark is Gordon's account of himself
in ** Banker's Dream."
"All loosely he's staiding, the amateur's riding,
All loosely, some reverie look'd in
Of a ' vision in smoke/ or a ' wayfaring bloke,'
His poetical rubbish concocting."
" Gordon,** proceeds Mr. Vaughan, " had many good
horses at different times ; he would never ride a flat race,
but would ride any one's horse over fences for the love
of it."
" Crordon ** (says a writer in the Adelaide Register^
Saturday, July 1, 1911). . . . ^^set up in business as a
professional horse-breaker. He had retained the delight
in reckless riding that had landed him in more than one
scrape in his reckless youth. On one occasion after
impatiently watching a man make elaborate preparations
to mount a notorious buck-jumper, he stepped up, threw
the saddle off, jumped on the bare-backed animal, and
darted away like a whirlwind. His perilous leap over a fence
abutting on a precipitous declivity near Mount Gambier
was the sensation of the district and is talked of to this
day. He was with a party of kangaroo-hunters from
94 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Victoria, and dared any of them to follow him over the
fence. Needless to say none accepted/'
*^Mr. E. J. Locke, an old-time steeplechase rider, re-
counted a story of Gordon's powers as a rider of buck-
jumpers. Mr. Locke's father in Ck)rdon's time kept an
hotel at Port McDonnell, the rendezvous of the sporting
men of the district. One day Gordon rode over from his
home at Dingley Dell leading a mare, a noted outlaw.
The nuire was soon the topic of conversation among the
callers at the hotel, and her bucking capabilities were
discussed. Gordon offered to wager a bottle of whisky,
the favourite stake at that time, that no man present could
ride the mare for three bucks. A man named Charlie
MuUaley, who, although eighty years of age, is still said to
be living near Condah, and there noted as a rough-rider,
accepted the challenge. * You can have my saddle or
any other,' said the poet, ^ but no top rail,' meaning no
swag in front of the saddle. Mullaley exclaimed that he
would ride her unless she * slipped her skin.' The mare
was saddled and Mullaley dug his heels in. The animal
gave two terrific bucks. At the third she swerved in the
air and the rider was thrown. He landed on the broad of
his back. The mare bolted across the swamp to Dingley
Dell. Gordon went after her. He returned soon and
proceeded to the bar, and found the bottle of whisky and
glasses on the table. ' Give me a cigar,' he said to
Mr. Locke, the publican, and on receiving the article placed
it in his pocket. The mare had been put in a loose box
and after she had been given a good spell Gordon said
he should ride her. She was saddled by him and led out
into a paddock behind the hotel. The poet mounted and
the mare began to buck furiously. Ck)rdon, with perfect
sang-froid, looped the reins loosely over one arm and, while
the animal was still bucking, took out the cigar and lit it
with a wax match. He rode the outlaw until she ' eased up '
about a quarter of an hour, and then dismounted, and
said, * That's what I call riding a buck-jumper.' ^ Some
HOW GORDON RODE IN AUSTRALIA 05
might hardly credit this,' said Mr. Locke, ' but it is quite
true.' Those who know Mr. Locke would not doubt his
word." (Adelaide Register^ December 16, 1911).
Mr. W. J. Sowden, editor of the Register (S.A.), says of
the famous leap alluded to above, that *' the obelisk is
erected near to the brink of the Blue Lake at Mount
Gambler which is justly celebrated as the spot where
Gordon jumjied his horse sideways over a panel on the
margin of a i^teep declivity, a feat which was in recent
years imitated by a well-known horseman. You are, of
course, aware that the wonder of Gordon's riding was not
that he did what many stockmen have done, but that he
did it in spite of a near-sightedness which amounted
almost to blindness." George Gordon McCrae says of
Gordon's riding : " Of course, you will remember how
Gordon took his jumps in hurdle-racing, with his feet
jammed completely home in the stirrups and at the
critical moment with the back of his head laid actually
back on the crupper, from which position he returned easily
and gracefully as the horse came over. He was very short-
sighted, yet I never knew him to wear glasses. Once I
asked him how he managed in steeplechasing. He replied
' Well enough, but I see through a mist and never beyond
the ears of the horse.' "
Sir Frank Madden says of Gordon : *' There is no doubt
that he " (like Tom Oliver's jockey at Prestbury), " rated
horses above men, and his love for them had become the
ruling passion of his life, although he was by no means a
good judge of a horse. • . . (rordon and Trainor went
away breaking horses together. Horse-breaking in those
days W€us no child's play. It was necessary in order to
round up the cattle on the stations that they should have
good horses, and on every station there was at least one
thorough-bred stallion, often more. With horses of the
class of King Alfred, Mariner, the Premier, Touchstone,
Panic, etc., it was only to be expected that the stock
horses, like the mare that Gordon rode ^ From the Wreck,'
de ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
were bred nearly as clean as Eclipse, and such horses
having been allowed to run wild until they were four or
five years old, when they came in to be broken in took some
breaking, particularly when it is remembered that the
methods of those days were ^ short, sharp and very
decisive.' It was considered a waste of time if the colt
was not ridden on the third day after he was caught.
** We were all horsemen then and looked upon steeple-
chasing as the acme of sport. You are mistaken in saying
that ^ Gk>rdon made a living as a jockey.' He never
received a farthing for riding, and I find that the last
time he rode a steeplechase was in March 1870, on Major
Baker's Prince Rupert. He rode in those days as Mr.
L. Grordon, 10 stone. We were very particular in those
days, and if he had ever taken money for riding he would
not have been allowed to ride as Mr. Gordon. For a man
of his height to ride 10 stone showed how lean he was
towards the end."
Speaking of Gordon as a rider, Mr. George Riddoch says
that he never saw him ride in any of his great steeplechases,
but he describes him as being a wonderful rider over jumps,
though his short sight may sometimes have made him take
off at the wrong moment. On the other hand, he was
absolutely careless of danger, and had wonderful influence
over a horse. He never knew any one who so dominated
horses. And he could communicate his confidence to
others. On one occasion a kangaroo hunt was got up at
Yallum (Mr. John Riddoch's place).
" Over twenty-six horsemen were out, Gordon amongst the
number, who was riding a very fine thorough-bred mare
which had won a steeplechase on the previous day. There
was also a sporting publican who was riding the winner
of a steeplechase at the same meeting. We had several
runs and kills, when we got into a rough stringy bark
range, on the top of which was a fence made by felling
trees and drawing them into line. This fence had been
lately topped up, and I thought was an insurmountable
HOW GORDON RODE IN AUSTRALIA 97
barrier. I tried to whip the hounds off but failed, and
thinking no horse would jump it» I called to Grordon, who
was next to me, that it was no use trying. He looked round,
smiled and went on, followed by the rider on the steeple-
chase winner, who also got over. Stimulated by such an
example I would not do less than try, and found myself
on the other side of the fence, close to the heels of the
other two. After killing four kangaroos we rode back to
the fence where the other horsemen were, and as there was
no gate for some miles on either side the jump had to be
negotiated in cold blood. If Gordon had not been there
the fence would not have been attempted and we would
not have known the capacity of our horses, as the jump
was certainly a very stiff one. . . ."
Gordon was not fond of talking horse. Everybody
used to say that Gordon was an ungainly rider; he had
very long legs and a very long neck, and used to lean
forwards as shown in the caricature which forms the
frontispiece of this book.
Gordon's leading steeplechasing mounts are mentioned
in the table of the principal dates in his life (see p. xxx to
zxxii).
You had only to dare Gordon to try a jump and he
at once went for it^ One day he and Mr. Riddoch and a
friend went out for a ride. Gordon was on a nasty-
tempered mare. The friends said something about
jumping, and Gordon turned round and went at a fence.
The mare slipped on the greasy road and threw him.
Gordon landed on his back with his long legs in the air,
still holding on to the bridle. He mounted again and put
the mare over the fence.
The story of Gordon's rescue of the boy Tommy Hales
from the lock-up is reminiscent of Gordon's own adventure
at Worcester, when he slipped away from the Sheriff's
Officer with the aid of Black Tom Oliver. It is said that
the two great riders were firm friends in later years.
In an article on *^The Turf, our Horses and our
H
&8 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Prophets '' (Australasian^ November 14» 18 — )» P. P. says
that though the Sydney contingent's horses had been
victorious on the Flat, ^* in one respect we can crow, and as
the Yankees say, can lick creation. They have no riders
like Mr. Gordon in Sydney, and no horses like Viking and
Ingleside. Nowhere in the world could such a sight be
seen as in the steeplechase when Viking, admirably ridden
by Mr. Gordon, went over a course with leaps that would
stop every horse and rider in Great Britain. They might
go a little faster in the Old Country, but such a succession
of big jmnps is only to be met with in Victoria, and in
Victoria alone can the men be found who have the nerve
to go over them at racing pace. We wish the Sydney
people would take to this kind of work as they do to the
Flat. For a cross-coimtry meeting in which the rival
cracks would meet would create greater enthusiasm than
even a Melbourne Cup."
In Cheltenham and among the Cotswolds one catches
glimpses of (vordon in his habit as he lived, his bottle-green
coat and his tan cut-away. In the British Museum
out of the files of the Australasian his ghost walks again
in the Gordon tartan riding-jcusket, his racing colours
in later days — ^and the ragged beard. Only passing
glimpses one gets, but they bring the man cleaily back out
of the shadowy past. Here he is with his great friend
Major Baker. " Actaeon *' goes to a Meet of the Mel-
bourne Hounds in June 1868, Mr. Gordon was on a grey.
The grey. Babbler, and three other horses got over an
unyielding big fence with a ditch towards the riders.
No one else tackled it. ** Actaeon " admires Mr. Gordon so
much, but Mr. Gordon has a temper at times. He dashes
off a letter to the editor of the Australasian blowing up
the sporting correspondent sky-high for reporting a run
with the Melbourne Hounds which "' perhaps he never saw,
and certainly he never saw the best of it. I have not the
least idea who your correspondent * Actaeon ' may be — nor
HOW GORDON RODE IN AUSTRALIA 99
does it very much matter." The editor tries to pour oil
on troubled water; he says ^^Actseon," generally a most
reliable correspondent, appears '' for once to be in error." —
Again another sporting writer, ** Aniseed/' tells us about the
BaUarat Hounds. *' I only hope we shall have that rasper
to-day," quoth Tompkins (Tompkins nine months ago
was on a horse's back for the first time and spends his
time in explaining the line the game meant to take and
extolling his hunter, a wicked-looking mare with one
villainous eye for ever on Tommy's boots). " Yes, I hope
we shall have it — I've got the foot of you all and I mean
to have it firstJ** "" Let the hounds have it first. Tommy,"
says I. ''Don't stop him," remarked a saturnine man
(Gk>rdon) who was standing near us ; ** he'll be killed to a
certainty, and if he's in front of the hounds, perhaps
they'll eat him ; they want blooding badly. Harden your
heart, sonny, and say —
(C (
And none like me, being mean like me.
Shall die like me while the world remains,
I will rise with her leading the field.
While she will fall on me,
Croahing me bonee and brains** *'
In April 1868, Gk>rdon wrote and published his Racing
Ethics in the AugtrdUman under the nom de plume of
•* The Turf -Cutter."
The Australasian has a good deal to say about Gordon
as a steeplechase rider. There are many descriptions o^
his great day when he won the three steeplechases in one
afternoon. He writes just before the Race Meeting to
Mr. Riddoch and says, '^ You shall hear from me by the
next steamer if I get through Saturday's work.'' And a
good afternoon's work it was. The first of these three was
the Melbourne Hunt Club Steeplechase, where Gordon's
mount was Major Baker's Babbler. Instead of ** laying back
from his horses " (as Stevens and Oliver would have
recommended), Gk>rdon took the lead at once, and ^^ the
Favourite sailed away in his usual lolloping style," but ^^ at
H2
100 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
the riverside his admirers were put in a funk when he
stuck Mr. Gordon up at a fence there. He refused twice,
but Mr. Gordon forced him over the third time of asking,
and he took it so slovenly that he came down on his nose,
but his rider's fine horsemanship soon had him on his legs
again." P. P. in " Sketches in Pig-Skin *' says, " Had I been
asked on Saturday last which horse to pick I would have
chosen Acrobat " (same name as the horse in the *' Sick
Stockrider "), ^^ but Babbler was in a good humour, and I
should have lost my money. As it was I doubt if any one
but Mr. Gordon could have won with him. Not that I
think Mr. Gordon's riding is above criticism. He is too
hot and too quick for my money, but his heart is undeniable.
He means to win and he will win if he can, which means
a great deal." Another writer says of this race : " Mr.
Gordon gave the field two batdks with half a fall in and an
easy licking. . . . His fine horsemanship when Babbler
all but kissed Mother Earth going over the fence at the
river side, deserves every praise, for nine out of ten men
in the same predicament would have been over his head."
In the next event Gordon rode his own Viking. (Mr.
Power afterwards had a half share in, and finally owned
this horse altogether.) In the Selling Steeplechase Cadger
and Canary (ridden by Downes) were the favourites.
^^ Firetail led off, but baulked at the first obstacle. Cadger
and Canary settled down to a sharp tussle, both clearing
everything" (say Turner and Sutherland), "neatly and
without an error. Downes kept a little way behind,
waiting to make a strenuous rush at the end. But Cadger
had been just as cautiously handled as Canary, and when
the final effort was made Canary's nose could never get
into a line with Cadger's tail, and again the crowd rasped
their throats in a long, hoarse cheer, as Gordon in the last
few yards of the race shot ahead with a length or two to
spare. After this race Cadger was sold for £40."
Turner and Sutherland go on to say that perhaps
part of Qordon's success was due to his utter recklessness.
• • •- •
* • : '••
• ■ • •
HOW GORDON RODE IN AtlSTR^I/IA : -iOl ..
and that it was hopeless for any rider with any regard for
his neck to compete against a man who has a secret hope
of being killed, *^ and that, as we know from his own words,
was the state of Gordon's mind on the day when he rode
a victor in the three steeplechases.*'
Of course Gordon as a rider had many faults. He
leaned ^^ far back in his saddle in galloping, and in jumping
his shoulders might be seen almost to come in contact
with the crupper of the horse.** Another authority has
said that Gordon rode and wrote his poetry with a rush,
but he had not ** the hands '* for a fine finish. Yet he had
two great advantages — ^no nerves and a " clear judgment.
He ^ picked his panel with care.' His horse gained
confidence from him, knew what he wanted, and usually
did it.'*
" Wear woollen socks, they're the best you'll find.
Beware how you leave off flannel.
And uhatever you do, donH change your mind
When onoe you have picked yonr panel,''
he wrote in Ye Wearie Wayfarer, Fytte II. " More-
over Gordon had the rare faculty of putting himself in
full sympathy with his horse.** Gordon remarks himself,
in Racing Ethics, that ** Equine hardihood and fearlessness
have been often extolled and exaggerated by romancers
and poets, but unless maddened by terror and pain no
horse xoiU xoillingly rush on a danger that is palpable and
self-evident to brute instinct.** Even the Knight of
Rhodes had his work cut out to get his horse to look the
dragon in the face. He used a sham dragon when practising
dragon-slayii
*' Albeit when first the destrier spied
The lordly beast he swerved aside."
Gordon cannot swallow the story of Quintus Curtius,
nor yet Kingsley*s ^^ Ejiight*s Leap at Altenahr,** but seems
to have some respect for Mrs. Browning*s views on the
matter when she makes Guy of Linteged coax his mare
. 102 . : . : ABAM: LINDSAY GORDON
up the stairs — ^and then mount and back him ^' by main
force."
" Baok he rein*d the steed, back thrown
On the slippery coping-stone.'*
Probably this is the first and last time that Mrs. Browning
will be cited as a sporting authority, and as opposed to
Charles Kingsley too.
But all this is a far cry from Cadger and the Selling
Steeplechase, and the great day when " Downes on Canary
stuck to Cadger throughout and made his endeavour
before coming to the last hurdles, but Mr. Gordon had lots
in reserve and cantered in, an easy winner, this being
his most successful mount during the day," though his
three victories were all accomplished without a falL
Mr. Shillinglaw (Manager of the National Bank of
Australasia), an Australian now in London, well remembers
seeing Gk)rdon ride. He was a very fine rider, but had an
eccentric way of riding. He, too, points out that Gordon
leant very far back in his saddle as the horse went over a
fence. He did not interfere too much with his horses —
left them alone as it were — ^but he had very good judg-
ment. Mr. Shillinglaw's brother was a literary friend of
Gordon's.
At the Melbourne Spring Meeting in November 1868,
Gordon won the V.A.T.C. Steeplechase on Viking, over-
weighted under a handicap of list. 81b. In a quotation
from an article by " Peeping Tom " of the Ausiralasian^ at
that time the chief racing writer in the Colony, it is recorded
that "Mr. Power's horse Viking never made a mistake;
the way in which Mr. Gordon eased him over the more
difficult of the fences, such as the three obstacles in front
of the Grand Stand, clearly exonerates thai gentieman^s
character from rashness. Viking was considered an unlikely
starter. On the evening before the event the odds were
ten to one against him, but three to one when he and his
rider appeared in the paddock fit and ready for the fray."
A remark of Gordon's in a letter to Mr. Riddoch throws
HOW GORDON RODE IN AUSTRALIA 108
some light on this last paragraph. '' I did not make much
money by the steeplechases which I won, hardly any at all
by the last and best of them. It was bad management,
for though I do not hold with betting as a rule, still it is
not much more than speculation of other kinds, and a man
is justified in risking five pounds when he has a good
chance of making it a hundred. Besides, I've swallowed
too many camels now to strain at a gnat. The truth is I
made an awful mess of the whole affair. Power wanted
me to keep my share, one half of Viking, but I preferred to
sell it and get the £75 at once. About £15 of this I pro-
posed to lay off at ten to one. Well, I got the horse down
in the market by a justifiable ruse, but I left another man
to get the odds on for me, and he failed to do this. I only
got the half of that I had intended winning — ^£25, This
only covered some double events which I lost. I think I will
ride Babbler at Ballarat. Major Baker again offered to
go me halves in the stakes, and pay the expenses if I would
ride Babbler. The stakes are only £200, but that will be
£100 to me if I win. Babbler is a good, lasting brute, and
a very safe jumper. The four-mile course still suits him."
Ck>rdon did ride Babbler at Ballarat, and won after an
exciting steeplechase in which Gk)rdon and Mr. Orr on
Ingleside got away from the rest of the field. Babbler,
according to his pretty little custom, baulked at the first
sod- wall. Gordon coaxed him over and then ^* came two
fences — ^too near together to make the second an easy
obstacle. All the other horses wasted time in getting
over this latter fence, but Gordon took Babbler over it
neatly and without the loss of a moment." After this the
race was between Babbler and Ingleside — ^they shot on
side by side vainly pursued by the other horses — " while
then Babbler slowly prevailed, a head, a shoulder, a
length, in front, and ere they turned into the straight
Mr. Orr, seeing how easily and freshly Babbler seemed to
go. . . . pidled up in despair. Gordon soon after dropped
down to a cool trot and passed the winning post with no
104 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
other horse in sight behind him, the first of the followers
just rounding the comer as the victor turned away amid
a wild ovation on the part of the crowd, who recognized
that the victory belonged to the man rather than to the
beast." To return to the Atistralasian — " Peeping Tom •'
says of this steeplechase in the issue of November 21, 1868 —
^^ Owing a good deal to Mr. Gordon's being on Major
Baker's horse he was made a * Great Pot.' The race was
ridden very patiently throughout, and there was plenty
in him (Babbler) when his rider asked him to finish."
In January 1868, in the Grand National Steeplechase,
(yordon was third on Babbler to Viking, so lately his own
horse.
The last mention of Ck>rdon in the last AtutreUasian at
the Museum, the one pubhshed on June 26, 1869, is an
account of a run with the Melbourne Hounds. ^' Mr.
Gordon was on Gaylad — ^his mount cannoned by a refuser,
jumped short and hung on the fence, and his rider dis-
mounted leisurely enough, and after expressing some very
warm wishes as to his horse's future welfare in the lower
tropical regions, hauled him over somehow."
On March 27, 1869, Gordon ^' once more bestrode the
heavy Babbler to oppose a field in which Ingleside and
Ballarat were his chief opponents. The newspaper reports
of the following Monday declare that Gordon only played
with them during the early part of the race, and that when-
ever he pleased to put his horse to its best, he shot easily
forward and came in at the post far ahead of all pursuers.
Crordon won one other steeplechase and rode in two
more before he wore colours (Major Baker's straw and
black) for the last time, on the " big black ^ Prince
Rupert." (yordon's first recorded steeplechase was on
the black Lallah Rookh — ^his last on Prince Rupert.
" I remember Lindsay at Prestbury riding a black
horse and wearing, I think, a light blue jacket." So he
^ The Arffus report of the race, which ia abaolutely reliable, proves that
Prince Rupert was a chestnut gelding.
HOW GORDON RODE IN AUSTRALIA 105
lives in an Englishman's memory, while Australasians
conjure up his ghost on a black horse in the straw and
black of Major Baker. His own racing colours were the
Gordon Tartan.
'^ It was in the afternoon of Saturday, March 12, 1870,
that Gk)rdon rode his last race. . . .
*^ After the start two of the horses, named Rocket and
Skipper," (say Turner and Sutherland), **got away with
a rush to the front, but Gordon brought Prince Rupert
steadily up behind them, till at the sheds he had reached
them. Then up came a fourth horse, named Reindeer,
while a fifth. Rondo, also by putting on a spurt approached.
At the first jump all five horses went neatly over, very
nearly together, but at the second Prince Rupert and
Reindeer had the lead, and breasted the air side by side,
while Skipper and a new-comer named Dutchman strode
eagerly behind to share the lead. There was a big fence
ahead, and as they all steered for this Prince Rupert was
a little in advance of the rest. But he took the leap too
eagerly, and struck, (cordon was thrown over the horse's
head, and fell in a dangerous way. He jumped to his feet
again, and was at once in the saddle. But the blow had
been a serious one and the rider was seen to reel in his
saddle. We know from his own account that he was
quite dazed and scarcely knew where he was or what was
happening. And yet he recovered the lost ground and led
all the way past the abbattoirs. Then the rider's skill was
seen to leave him. He swayed heavily, and his hand lost
its firmness. Dutchman and Reindeer gained and then
Dutchman secured the lead. At the third and last fence
Prince Rupert fell and again threw Gk)rdon heavily. This
time the horse got away and the race lay then between
Reindeer and Dutchman, which were, by that time, sorely
distressed. Dutchman in the end by a strenuous effort
secured a painful victory."
(yordon was internally injured by this fall, and worse
still — ^the damage done to his head was serious and lasting.
106 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
In a kind of way Gordon owed his death to the sport he
loved.
It was perhaps her splendid horsemanship that first
called Gordon's attention to Maggie Park, who afterwards
became his wife. Miss Gordon says Lindsay wrote home
and told his uncle how they rode eighty miles to be married.
It must have been no sinecure to keep house for this
absent-minded eccentric poet with no idea of making or
keeping money. The life of any poet's wife cannot all
be beer and skittles, and Lindsay with all his affection for
his wife and his charming ways was subject to moods and
fits of depression. Though Mrs. (cordon appreciated her
husband more as a horseman than as a poet, she was
^* always against racing." She loved horses herself, but
probably saw that the sport was bad for Lindsay, body and
mind. When Gordon was very poor she undertook to
feed and look after the dogs of the Coursing Club, while
Gordon was Secretary (at a small salary) to the Ballarat
Hunt Club. Good sportsman as Lindsay was in this
instance, at least his wife was the better man. Of the two
she did not lie down and die pathetically and poeticaUy
like the Sick Stockrider, nor like the Voice from the Bush
did she say —
''Well, I've out my oake, so I oan't complain/*
and knuckle under. She fed the Coursing Club's dogs and she
kept Gordon up to the mark so far as in her lay. But Fate
and that last ride on Prince Rupert were too much for
her and him.
Lindsay may have admired many other girls — ^but when
he had arrived at manhood he never would have married
any girl who was not a rider — and a rider far above the
average. That was almost all he ever asked of his friends,
that they should ride.
In the Melbourne Argus of March 14, 1870, is the account
of Gordon's last steeplechase.
The V.R.C. steeplechase meeting. A handicap steeple-
HOW GORDON RODE IN AUSTRALIA 107
chase of 10 sovereigns each with 150 sovereigns added.
About three miles over such course and jumps as the
stewards directed.
Mr. Moran's Plying Dutchman, aged, owner.
Mr. F- C. Moore's Reindeer, aged, 12 st., Mr. Mount.
Mr. S. Harding's ch. g., 6 yrs., 9 st. 10 lb., Harding.
Mr. J. Collin's br. g., Bindo ?
Mr. H. Fisher's br. g.. Skipper, aged, 10 st. 6 lb., Howell.
Major Baker* 8 ch. g., Prince Rupert^ Mr. Gordon.
Mr. G. Watson's, b. g. Rocket ?
Mr. S. Harding's ch. g., Tartar, 8 yrs., 9 st., Callahan.
Mr. W. P. Bones's ^ ? br. g., Babbler, aged.
Mr. J. Terry's Gipsy Girl.
Mr. J. W. Cowell's Young Mocking Bird.
Betting — 8 to 1 against Reindeer.
4 to 1 against Dutchman and Skipper.
5 to 1 against Prince Rupert and ?
The paper remarks laconically —
** At the third fence Prince Rupert fell and got away from
Mr. Gordon. . . . Several came to grief, Mr. Gordon
amongst others, but none of them were much hurt."
But the world knows that Gordon never got over that fall.
(yordon's riding is mentioned a great deal in Sketches in
Pig'Skin^ by P.P.y about Nothing in Particular. From the
Australasian, November 7, 1868 —
" Larking is a most objectionable practice. It has always
been accounted so by the best judges, and the thirst for
unnecessary risking of life and limb has been frequently
animadverted upon. But it is very enjoyable. Like a
good many other wicked deeds, it is pleasurable. If a
man has a stiff fence before him, and a good horse under
him he will often risk his neck upon very slight provocation.
Of such a stamp is my friend Reckless (Adam Lindsay
Gordon). Reckless is a tall thin man who looks like an
ancient Viking and rides like an Assyrian of old.
* Ekewhere given as still belonging to Major Baker.
108 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
" The other day I went out to ride with Reckless. There
were four of us in all. Reckless had brought two friends,
both of whom were admirers of his, and was prepared for
any amount of falls. Both his friends were horsey — that
is to say, both of them were interested in horseflesh, and
each ^ fancied himself * as a rider. All the way down to
our destination Reckless was taking timber, and it was
with much difficulty that we could dissuade him from
attempting something like thirty feet of fly over a stone-
banked gutter with a strong four-rail at each side of it.
I beUeve, indeed, that he would have gone at it after all
had we not all three agreed that the jump was impossible
for anything four-footed. He is usually rather wild in
his ways, but on this particular day he was wilder than
ever. He had the misfortune to be mounted upon a
^ little mare,' and we all know what an encouragement to
folly that is.
" We were close to St. Kilda, where a broad drain runs
towards the sea, faced on each side with bluestone, and with
a high sawn fence on either side. We were looking at this
obstacle and I hazarded the remark, ^ That's a yawner ;
but I have seen horses in Leicestershire that I believe would
fly the lot.' (vordon was riding a little bay mare named
Maude, and the words were hardly out of my mouth
when he wheeled the mare round, and trotted a few yards
with the intention of having * a go ' at the drain ; and it
was all Marcus Clarke could do to induce him not to make
the attempt. That he would have tried and have killed
the mare, and have probably broken his own neck, I am
convinced; and it was not until he had jumped nearly
every fence about the park that he seemed to calm
down. . . . For my part I do not believe in wild exploits
gratis, and as I happened to be mounted on a serviceable,
though somewhat way-worn cob I declined to risk my
valuable neck for the amusement of my friends. Not so
Reckless. Name a jump and he was afire to ride at it
Curtius and his famous gulf were nothing to him.
HOW GORDON RODE IN AUSTRALIA 109
** A man who owns an animal of the kind lives in perpetual
danger. He never knows thoroughly well what his little
mare is capable of, and is eternally jumping her or galloping
her just to prove that she is what he represents her to be.
A little mare is a dangerous thing. I heard of a man who
was ruined by a present of a silver fish-slice. I believe
that many men have been ruined in consequence of
possessing a little mare. If she trots it is bad enough, then
the unhappy possessor is compelled by some terrible and
resistless fate to pass everything on the road, and to drive
over metal as though sinews were not. . . . But the owner
of a jumping mare is worse off. He risks his neck needlessly
twenty times a day, and cannot pass a haystack without a
desire to ram her at it. If you express a doubt as to the
powers of the fetish he worships, you make him your
deadly enemy, while to over-jump him would probably
lead to pistols for two and coffee for one. In short he has
lost his identity and has succumbed to a nightmare of a
most terrible kind. My friend Reckless was in this con-
dition. He has ridden many steeplechases and has won
some of them, and is a man whom one might reasonably
expect to have seen the folly of most things. But he
hasn't. Riding is a passion with him; betting isn't.
But such is his fondness for sport of some kind that having
known him I can quite realise the notion of the gentleman
on his death-bed, who stretched out one lean and ghostly
hand towards his equally moribund friend and said in a
voice broken by the death-rattle and husky with torment,
* Jack, my ribs are broken, old fellow, and I can't live
long. You must die too, Jack, in an hour or so, and
though you win the race I won't give in — ^up there — old
fellow, I'll f-fly you for a fiver ! ' I am certain Reckless
would ride against Death on the pale horse if the grim old
fellow would only give him six pounds and a bit of a
start. . . . He once lent me a horse — ^a good one too —
and on leaving him said, ^ You can keep him, my boy, but
be careful with him.' I promised, and shortly afterwards
110 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Reckless returned and said, ^ Promise me one thing-— one
thing.' ' What is it ? ' I asked, thinking he would give
me some special instruction as to carefulness. ^ Let him
take his fences at his awn pace,^ was Reckless's reply. . . .
That there are such men in the world seems a special act
of grace. I confess I like a bold horseman. A good rider
is usually a good fellow, and I respect the old squire who,
when a son-in-law was recommended to him asked ^ What
is his weight ? and can he ride well to hounds ? ' . . . I
have never yet seen a man who enjoys a good stiff post
and rail so much as Reckless does. After all I suppose
it does not much matter, and a man with nerves must not
grumble. I should like to be able to rattle a four-year-old
at the St. Kilda Railway fence and get over it in safety
without taking my pipe out of my mouth, but then I can't
do it, so there's an end of it. ... I intended to give you
an account of our day's larking and how we saw ' the
Doctor's Mare ' taking a little spin all alone by herself,
and how the sharp eyes of one of our companions detected
a saddle under the blanketing and drew his own conclusions
therefrom. I meant to relate how Reckless sat down and
jumped on to the railway comer, and then took hold of
the little mare and sent her * a cracker ' along the sandy
turf; how we measured the gutter, opposite to the old
Belle, and Reckless was on fire to jump it, and how we
discussed racing and gave each other tips for all sorts of
events. How we went in and had a look at Lantern and
admired Blue Jacket " (both mentioned by Gk)rdon in
Hippodromania) ; '^ in short, I had intended to give you
a pleasant, chatty account of our day's amusement and
to have made myself and the Uttle brown cob quite a
feature in the entertainment,"
In articles he contributed to the Australasian (April 18
and 26, 1868), Gordon contrasted steeplechasing in England
with steeplechasing in Australia thus —
*' There is one branch of our national sports which ought
to be the connecting link between the race-course and the
HOW GORDON RODE IN AUSTRALIA 111
hunting-field, and here, at least, some alterations may surely
be effected. In England, steeplechase handicaps are often
much too light, but there the courses are light also, and
the weeds are able to carry their feathers at racing pace
through the thin straggling hedges and low rotten fences
with a comparatively small percentage of serious accidents.
In England, too, steeplechasing is confined to the winter
or the early spring, and the soft ground is favourable to
the legs of the horses and the bones of their riders ; here
we have the evils of the home system without the advan-
tages. Our handicaps are adjusted on such a scale that
many of our steeplechasers have to carry light stable boys
who are not strong enough to steady them, over ground
nearly as hard as a macadamized road, and a succession
of fences every one of which seems to have been constructed
for the express purpose of throwing the horse that fails
to clear it. Steeplechasing is of course intended to be
a dangerous pastime, but the sport is scarcely enhanced
by making it as dangerous as it can be made. ^ Faugh-a-
Ballagh ' or *' Market Harborough,' or some other fire-
eating bruiser may read this, and observe that the writer
is evidently one of the soft division, and they may be
right, but I confess I do not care to see an impetuous
hard-mouthed brute overpowering a weak lad and rushing
at stiff timber like a btill at a gate. This much at least
will scarcely be gainsaid, our horses (to say nothing of their
riders) seldom last long at cross-country work. The
continual hard raps on heavy redgum or stringy bark rails,
coupled with the constant jarring shocks caused by landing
on a soil baked by an Australian sun, is enough to cripple
the strongest knees, and wear out the toughest sinews in
a very few seasons. I have nothing perhaps to suggest
that can claim the merit of originality — ^for has not ' The
General ' already called public attention to these matters ? —
but if the scale of our cross-country handicaps was raised
till the weights ranged say from 12st. 121b., or 12st. 101b. to
9st. lOlb., I think we should get a better and more respectable
112 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
class of riders, for there are gentlemen here that would ride
their own horses if they could ; and should the pace be a
little slower, the race would be at least equally well-
contested : also, if steeplechasing were contested at a
proper time of the year, when the ground is springy and
yielding or even heavy and sloppy, the advantages to
horse and man are too obvious to need any conmient. I
should be sorry to see the impediments of a fair hunting
coimtry transformed into a series of wretched little obstruc-
tions that a donkey cotild surmount, and I do not dislike
stiff timber more than some of my neighbours do. A few
big posts and rails are almost indispensable, as no other
fence necessitates such clean jumping; and besides, these
are the obstacles most frequently met with in this country.
But a steeplechase would be prettier to look at, and
pleasanter as well as easier to the ordinary run of com-
petitors if the line were varied a little, and interspersed
with a few green hedges of gorse and acacia nicely clipped
and trimmed, a wattle fence or two, and a stake and
bound, besides a sprinkling of palings and walls, and a
water-jump made to resemble a brook, with room for at
least half a dozen horses to take it abreast, and not an
impossible cross between a mud-hole and a man-trap
stuck in the middle of a crowd. Alterations such as these
might be made on a few of our principal courses with
comparatively little expense, and would probably be
found to give satisfaction. It may be objected that stiff
timber is the orthodox hunting leap in these colonies, but
in the hunting field there are plenty of soft places to be
found, and brush fences and small log jumps are common
enough ; besides all this, a man riding to hounds can always
get a pull at awkward places, whereas, in a steeplechase»
anything like a steady pull is the exception. Under the
present system it is no wonder that our jumping horses
are either crippled or cowed prematurely, for we usually
find that if their legs last long enough their tempers are
ruined, and they take to baulking with even the best men
HOW GORDON RODE IN AUSTRALIA 118
on their backs, which, considering the way in which they
have been handled and schooled from the first, ought not to
surprise us."
That is the verdict on Australian (mostly Victorian)
steeplechasing by the most famous steeplechase-rider
Australia ever knew.
CHAPTER V
€K)RDON'S OONNECTION WITH MAJOR BAKER
(SIR THOMAS DURAND BAKER)
Cheltenham has long loomed large in the Ufe-stoiy of
Adam Lindsay Gordon. We know that he was not more
than seven years old when his father settled in Cheltenham
after their long wanderings. We know that before he was
eight he had become a Cheltenham College boy at its
opening in July 1841 — ^the first of the new public schools,
the forerunner of Marlborough, Clifton, Haileybury and
Wellington. We know that his parents lived in Chelten-
ham till the day he left England in 1858. We know of the
influence which Jem Edwards, the famous prize-fighter,
who carried on his boxing school at Cheltenhami, and Tom
OUver, George Stevens and the other great steeplechasers
who lived at Prestbury, just outside Cheltenham, had in
making Gordon the laureate of sport. But nobody has
pointed out yet that it was another old Cheltonian, Major
Thomas Durand Baker, who entered most into his racing
life, who gave him the mount on Babbler which brought
him the most fame, and who gave him that last fatal mount,
which he only accepted because he needed to make money
so badly — ^the mount on Prince Rupert in the Melbourne
steeplechases, in which he sustained the injuries that he
never really got over.
Thomas Durand Baker entered Cheltenham College in
1846, the year in which Captain A. D. Gordon, the poet's
father, became Hindustani master at the College. Boys
went to pubUc schools young in those days. He was
older than Lindsay had been when he entered the College,
but he was only nine. He was only seventeen when he
lu
CONNECTION WITH MA^R BAKER 115
went to the Crimea in the 18th Royal Irish, and won his
first instalment of medals and fame. He was only ten
years older when he went to New Zealand and, as Deputy
Assistant Adjutant-General, played a great part in the
Maori War, winning much personal distinction as a dashing
and fearless soldier.
In 1866-1867 he became Deputy Assistant Adjutant-
General for Australia and New Zealand. I have not
ascertained the date on which he first took up residence
in Australia and met Gordon, though this is im-
portant, because Sea Spray and Smoke Drifts the slim
paper volume of poetry which Ck>rdon published in 1867,
contains poems which have magnificent passages about
the Balaclava Charge and the Crimean War, which affected
Gordon very powerfully about this date, and it would be
interesting to learn that they were the outcome of his
meeting tiie dashing soldier who had won medals at the
faU of Sebastopol, and had fought in the Indian Mutiny
and in the dangerous New Zealand War. Such a person*
ality coming into his life was bound to have a profound
effect on Ck>rdon, one of the few males in his family who
bad not been a soldier or a sailor, and who, by his fighting
qualities, was cut out for a soldier. Long after Gordon's
death. Baker was at the fall of Kumassi, and became the
general yrho won the battle of Charasiab and commanded
a brigade in Lord Roberts's crowning victory of Kandahar.
He died in 1898. One can picture Gordon trying to
live the military life, which had been denied him, in his
friend's experiences.
Their friendship lasted a longer time than is generally
the fate of friendships with imperial officers serving in
Australia. He won several of the great steeplechases of
Australia for Major Baker with Babbler, beginning in
1868, and it was on Major Baker's big horse, Prince Rupert,
that Gordon received the two falls from which he never
completely recovered, in the Melbourne steeplechases of
March 12, 1870.
I 2
116 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
We know that in December 1868 Gordon went and
stayed with the officers of the 14th Regiment and Major
Baker at their barracks on the St. Kilda Road, and enjoyed
himself immensely. One knows that Major Baker was
one of the chief figures at the funeral of the great steeple-
chaser who died by his own rash hand, and wrote to the
family in England about his death.
The other point which specially interests us in the
friendship of these two heroic men is, did they ever discuss,
did they know, that they both were Cheltenham College
boys ? Was the friendship of Major Baker, who held the
important post of Deputy Assistant Adjutant-General for
Australia and New Zealand, inaugurated by the fact that
they both learned their first lessons in the battle of life in
the great Gloucestershire school.
In this instance it is difficult to think otherwise. Baker,
going to the school as a boy at the same time as Gordon's
father went there as a master, must have been struck by
that tall, exquisitely courteous, military figure, and Gordon
must sometimes have spoken of the father whom he admired
so much though he treated him so badly. Thus it was that
Gordon, to the very end of his career, was linked to Chelten-
ham College, the Alma Mater of so many who have cemented
the stately edifice of the British Empire with their blood
to the ends of the earth.
At the first meet of the Melbourne hounds in June 1868,
Major Baker was hunting on Babbler, the horse with which
Gordon scored his first Melbourne victory in October 1868.
Major Baker, Gk)rdon on a grey, and three other men
got over an unyielding big fence with its ditch towards
the riders and weeded out the field, which was afterwards
very select.
The AiMralasian of August 1, X868, imder the heading
*^ Cricketers of the Season,'' writes, " Next in the list is
Major Baker, a gentleman who ' came out ' on the M.C.C.
turf last year, and whose forte is batting. He is a fikely
man to get runs as he plays with a good straight bat.
CONNECTION WITH MAJOR BAKER 117
His best place is in the slips, and he cuts in a pretty good
form. He is very sweet on forward play, but weak on
the off-side/'
Major Baker, again on Babbler, and Gordon on Cadet,
were out for the last hunt of the season with the Melbourne
hounds on October 1868, a few days before the V.R.C.
Spring Meeting. A wonderful poetical prophesy about
this meeting appeared in the Australasian^ October 10,
1868, by J. E. H.
*' I shall name, though he has a great weight on.
Big Babbler and he should win the Cup;
If he happens to go pretty straight on
That day and the Major be up.
******
In the next race I have a great liking
For Gordon. He rides without fear,
I like, too, the Danish name Viking,
And think he will be very near.
That finishes 3 in a telling
And rather remarkable style.
For the fourth I see is a selling
And Welter weight run for 3-mile.
I call out Canary and Cadger, etc.
Major Baker's colours were " straw and black."
Oct. 1868. Gordon won the Hunt Club Cup on Major
Baker's Babbler at Flemington (the Melbourne
Race-course).
Dec. 1868. Gordon won the Ballarat Steeplechase on
Major Baker's Babbler.
Jan. 1869. Gordon third on Major Baker's Babbler
at the Grand National at Flemington, won by
Gordon's Viking.
Nov. 1869. Gordon nowhere on Major Baker's Prince
Rupert in y.R.C. Steeplechase at Flemington.
Nov. 1869. Gk>rdon second on Major Baker's Prince
Rupert in the Ballarat Steeplechase.
March 12, 1870. His last mount. Gordon nowhere on
Major Baker's Prince Rupert in the Melbourne
Steeplechase. He had a bad tall.
118 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
This was on the Saturday. On the Monday Major Bak»
drove him into town to see a doctor, who pronounced his
injuries to be very serious. And a few days after Gordon
wrote to John Riddoch —
*' I got your letter this morning. I should have answered
it before, but I have been bad. I got a very bad fall last
Saturday ; worse than usual, in fact, and I have not been
able to do anything. Blackmore, who is out here now,
got me to Brighton that night. On Monday, Baker brought
me into town to see the doctor, but as I was there by myself
I did not care much either way. I am up to-day, for the
truth is I should croak if I had to stay in bed any longer.
I don't think I shall get over this fall easily, and you know,
old fellow, I'm not likely to complain more than need be ;
but I am hurt somewhere inside, I think. Power wants
to take me to Toorak to-night. Perhaps I may go, but am
not sure."
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CHAPTER VI
REHQNISCENGES OF ADAM LIND6AT GORDON,
BY HIS OOUSm, MISS FRANCES GORDON
My niece, who had intended writing an account of my
cousin Adam Lindsay Gordon, having passed away, it
has been suggested that I should do so myself, particularly
as I am probably the only person living who knew him
weU as a boy.
His father and mine were sons of Captain William
Gordon, youngest son of Robert Gordon of Hallhead
and Esslemont, and Henrietta, daughter of the second
Earl of Aberdeen, and granddaughter of the second Duke
of Gk>rdon. Our grandfather was one of the first officers
of the Corps of Royal Engineers, and distinguished himself
in the defence of Malta. He married Frances, daughter of
Captain Thomas Elrington, an officer who had fought
against our Gordon ancestors at Culloden, and against
the Americans at Bunker's Hill, where he was wounded
and taken prisoner. I have heard he lived for two years
with an Indian chief who wished him to marry his
daughter, but he eventually made his escape, and re-
turned to England, where being incapacitated by his
wound for further mUitary service, he was given the
Governorship of Plymouth Citadel. Our grandfather
died young (I believe about thirty), leaving his widow with
three sons and very little money. All three boys were
educated at Sandhurst as sons of an ofiGicer who died on
duty, and as they grew old enough they were given com-
missions in the 8rd Fusilier Guards by the Duke of
Gloucester. The Duke of Gloucester was always a great
119
120 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
friend to our family, our great-uncle. General Elrington,
being the Master of his Household. It is not certain that
Lindsay's father ever took up his commission, because he
went out to his uncle Robert Gordon, who was Governor of
Berbice, Demerara. After the death of his uncle he went to
India, where he entered the East India Company's service.
He was very clever and a great Eastern scholar, and I have
an old paper which mentions his passing first in all his
examinations. He came home on leave about 1880, and
falling in again with his uncle Robert's only daughter,
Harriet Elizabeth, he married her; and as she did not
wish to go to India he retired from the Army. I remember
my aunt well. She was very handsome, tall and graceful,
with a very long neck. She was also very artistic in her
tastes, but peculiar, and I remember when every one was
wearing crinolines she would have none, and being six
feet high and wearing a long, limp dress, she used to look
very remarkable. She had the gentlest, most chamung
manners when she was in a good temper, but was absolutely
imreasonable when she was not, and I believe thought
nothing of throwing a knife or a poker at any one. I
never saw her in one of her great passions, but I remember
one time when she was staying with us it was a fast, and
she would not touch anything all day. But as soon as every
one was in bed she rang her bell and wanted gruel ; then
just when the cook had got up to make it, she rang again
and said she was too wicked and would not have it. Then
as soon as the maid was in bed again she rang to say she
must have it, and so it went on for half the night, first
she would and then she wouldn't. She was supposed to
have an enormous fortune, and had been brought up by
our cousins, the Hugh Lindsays, with every sort of extrava-
gance, two governesses to herself and everything she fancied
got for her; but (I believe greatly owing to the abolition
of slavery) her money (which was mostly West Indian)
decreased very much in value. She, however, continued
recklessly extravagant. I remember hearing that after
FRANCES GORDON'S REMINISCENCES 121
having a room furnished and decorated in some very
artistic fashion, she took into her head that she didn't like
it, and insisting on having all midone and done all over
again — and I remember seeing some of her boxes mipacked
which were full of every sort of thing for which she had
no use, from valuable lace to saucepans. My uncle, with
a chivalrous idea of leaving her money entirely to herself
to do as she liked with, took the Hindostani Mastership
at Cheltenham College, and his son, Adam Lindsay^ was,
I believe, one of the first pupils after the school was estab-
lished. He, Lindsay, had from a child had a fancy for
horses which showed itself in playing with, and breaking
our rocking-horse. I remember several times crying
bitterly because he had knocked its head ofi in pretending
to perform with it. When he was at school he took to
real horses and riding steeplechases. On one occasion he
went to school with a great-coat over his racing-jacket,
had his horse brought to the College gates and went off
to ride a steeplechase, and I heard when his parents
were away he entertained a number of jockeys at supper,
who, I believe, got very tipsy. He went from Cheltenham
to Woolwich, passed through the Academy and was,
I believe, gazetted to the Artillery, but on account of his
absolute disregard of authority his father was requested
to withdraw him.
About this time (t. e. when Captain Gordon withdrew
Lindsay from Woolwich) my brother Hamilton gained a
Cadetship at Addiscombe which Sir William Lushington
had presented to Cheltenham College to be competed for,
and as my cousin had already the promise of a nomination
from our cousin the Hon. Hugh Lindsay, it was thought
he might pass that on to our cousin Lindsay. Toung
men went to Addiscombe about two years older than they
did to Woolwich, so Lindsay was not too old, and it was
thought that when he had a second chance he would be
wiser and more amenable to authority. But the arrange-
ment was not carried out.
122 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
It was soon after this that he came to live with us ^ at
Worcester, in order to go to a tutor with my brother
Adam, who was about the same age, eighteen or nineteen.
Lindsay was very handsome, tall and slight with dark
curly hair, and he used to dress in a very horsey style,
big plaid trousers tight at the knees and very wide at
the bottom, and very horsey ties and pins. He used to
jmnp and run races with my brother, and I remember he
and my brother wotdd run steeplechases with me and my
youngest brother Dick on their backs. I remember his
picking me up, jmnping out of the window with me,
running along the garden wall and tossing me down on
a hedge, and another time he was chaflfing me about my
brother Hammy and said, ^^ Who would have a boy's
name ending in ^ y * ? '' I said ^* Like Lindsay,'* and he
caught me up with my dress tight round my ankles and
held me topsy-turvy, of course all in fun, for he was very
good-natured. He used to take my little brother and me
out walks, and would tell us thrilling stories about vam-
pires, etc. He was very fond of acting charades, indeed,
and would act bits of Bombusies Furiaso in the dining-
room with me only as audience, and he would go singing
about the house. One thing he was always singing was —
** There waa an old nigger and hia name waa Uncle Ned,
And he lived long ago, long ago»
And he had no hair on the top of his head
In the place where the wool it ought to grow.*'
Other things he used to be singing which I believe were
his own were —
*' Alack, alack and weU^a-day,
That ever youth from virtue's paths should stray,
That ever they should bid their homes good-bye.
As many have, and so, by Jove, have I/'
I remember he chaffed my eldest brother who had
taken Sabbatarian views, writing a supposed advertisement
for a wife for him —
Gordon was a daughter of Captain R. C. H. Gordon, of 8, Green
Hill Place, Worcester.
FEIANCES GORDON'S REMINISCENCES 128
" Wftnted by a young Lieutenant a respectable young lady.
Looks are not at all the question. If the morals are not shady
She shall have no cause vhatever to regret her choice for one day.
Please direct to G. H. Gordon. N.B. — ^Do not write on Sunday.'*
I remember his being very busy about the candidature
of Mr. HudIeston» afterwards Baron Hudlestcni. I believe
he kissed the women and fought the men and brought
a good many voters to the poll, and I remember the parody
on Bonny Dundee he wrote for the occasion.
" To the Worcester Electors 'twas Lazelet who spoke.
Your aid and assistance I hereby invoke.
And let each ragged ruffian who is fond of free-trade
Come and drink himself drunk and his shot shaU be paid«
Chorus.
" Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can,
m manage to bribe every rate-paying man.
Open the taverns and let them in free.
For the drunker they get they're the fitter for me.
Bill Lazelet is mounted, he rides up the street.
With loud acclamations the radicals greet.
Said the host of a beer tavern, tapping his barrel.
The town is well rid of that humbug McGarrell.
Chorus,
Come fill up, etc.
Then give us three cheers for the white and the blue,
[LAzelet's colours
If there're Tories in Worcester therehre Radicals too.
And the rats of the Severn in hundreds, I trow,
Are squared for a trifle to kick up a row.
Chorus,
Come fill up, etc.
Then away to the haunts of the republicans red.
To barter in turns for smaU beer and cheap bread,
[I forget the next lines]
Chotus*
Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can,
m manage to bribe every rate-paying man;
Open the prisons, and let 'em out free.
For the worser the lot, they're the fitter for me."
The two Liberals^ W. Lazelet and O. Ricardo were elected.
124 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Mr. Lazelet, who was afterwards Conservative member
for Worcester, was then standing in the Radical interest,
and Mr. McGarrell had come to oppose him in the Con-
servative interest, but gave it up almost directly, and was re-
placed by Mr. Hudleston, who thanked Lindsay for his help.
Lindsay used to keep a horse jointly with a friend,
while he was with us, unknown to his father or mine,
though we used to see him riding it sometimes. Atone
time they were behindhand in paying its keep at the
livery stables, and the owner of the place locked it up,
which greatly incensed Lindsay, and he broke into the
stable and brought it out, and afterwards had a great
fight and thrashed the ostler, all of which I remember his
describing to my younger brother and me when we were
out walking. I remember his father coming over about
it not long after, and though I think he was proud of his
son^s prowess, he did not think it satisfactory for that
sort of thing to go on, and I think it was soon after that,
that it was settled for Lindsay to go out to Australia,
to join the mounted police. I remember knitting a purse
for him before he went, and his giving me his racing-
jacket to make pin-cushions of.
I fancy that some people in Australia had an idea tliat
he was cast off by his family, perhaps a little because
some of his verses may imply it, but nothing was further
from the case. His father was devoted to him, and so
was his mother, though she was such an extraordinary
person, that she did not make home happy for him or
any of her family. Lindsay rather liked to pose, at least
in his poetry, as the devil-may-care scapegrace, but cut
off by his family he was not.
One sad thing happened, however, and that was as his
life was so roving in Australia his letters were sent to a
friend, and when money was sent out to him by his father,
the friend took it, and destroyed the letters. I remember
years after, when Lindsay's father and mother were both
dead, my father had a letter from him saying the friend
FRANCES GORDON'S REMINISCENCES 125
had coBfessed to him what he had done, and Lindsay
added that though he could forgive his friend haring
taken the money, it was hard to forgive his having cut
him off from his family. After that my father used to
hear from him occasionally, and at one time he thought
of coming home to claim the family estate in Scotland
which, had the entail on male heirs held good, would
have been his. There had, however, been a flaw in this
entail which enabled his cousin to cut it off, and so the
place went in the female line. Of Lindsay's life in
Australia, Australians know more than I do. When
living with us he was always very good-natured to me,
and like an elder brother. He was very clever and reck-
lessly brave, and it was sad that with so many gifts, he
had not the steadiness that mig^t have led him to success.
He had-« wonderful memory. I remember him going
into a book-shop, picking up a Longfellow, looking through
the "" Skeleton in Armour," and repeating it all when he
came out.
Miss Gordon clears up in her letters several points in
Gordon's life as to which there have existed grave mis-
apprehensions.
'' Very many thanks for all the things you have sent
me about Lindsay. I suppose it is the melancholy strain
in Lindsay's poems that has made Australians imagine
that he was thrown off by his own family, and possibly
his friend having taken his money and burnt his father's
letters may have made him feel neglected, but nothing was
more untrue than to imagine that he was driven into
exile or that his father's patience was exhausted. I can
remember myself that his father was rather proud of his
breaking into the stable and thrashing the ostler. I do
not in the least believe his * mother had come almost to
dislike him,' nor do I think that she or any of the family
were the least out of their minds, therefore I don't know
what is meant by inherited melancholia. His mother was
12« ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
passionate and sdflsh^ and gave way to her passions and
fancies to an extent that made her violently unreasonable,
and which brought a great deal of unhappiness to her
family, but I never heard she was out of her mind» and
Lindsay's father was extremely clever and almost Quixo-
tically chivalrous, and I don't the least think Lindsay
had an unhappy childhood and youth; he certainly
seemed happy enough. When he was with us he seemed
extremely lively and so he always seemed when he was
at Woolwich, and he used to be considered extremely
clever though he did not go in for study."
.In another letter Miss Gordon says —
^^My cousin was almost like a brother to me when I
was a little girl. He was sent out to the mounted police
in Australia because he had a taste for a wild sort of life;
but Lindsay had a great admiration for Bsrron,- and liked
to write poetry in that strain. As to his mother, I never
heard the slightest idea of her being out of her mind in any
xvay^ but she was most awfully passionate and had no
idea of controlling herself and consequently did not make
her family happy, and then she had fits of penitence;
she was very low-church. I know she was constantly
going away for her health. I know one winter she went
to Madeira, and other times she went to Italy, but I don't
know how far she was really delicate or fancied she was."
And in another —
'^ I dare say it was quite a good descripticm to say
Lindsay's father was like Colonel Newcome, he was an
excessively chivalrous person, extremely clever and very
fond of the literature of the East and romance. He would,
of course, have been most conscientious about doing his
duty as master in the College, but I should not have
thought the word methodical was at all the word to
describe him and his wife. I should have called them most
erratic."
CHAPTER VII
TABLE OF DESCENT OF THE FAMILY OF GORDON OF HALL-
HEAD AND ESSLEMONT, SUPPLIED BT THE COURTESY
OF MISS FRANCES GORDON AND COLONEL WOLRIGE
GORDON
Thomas Gordon of Rivare Dominus de Auchinveath
14 • • • by his wife • . . daughter of Mr. Walter Jones
of Iimcomarkie had sons — ^the fourth son • . •
I. George Gordon, acquired the lands of Quisny or
Cushnie. He married, first a daughter of Gordon of
Craigelie without issue, second a daughter of Mortimer of
Craigievar, by whom he had two sons and a daughter,
Margaret Gordon (married to Leslie of Kincraigie). The
eldest son Alexander, died in his father's life-time without
issue. The second son,
IL John Gordon of Cushnie and Hallhead, had charters
of his land in 1511 and 1526. (He died about 1550.) He
married • . • and had two sons (from the younger of whom
descended the family of Lillieangus). His elder son,
m. (See deed of 1557 Aut. A. and B., vol. iv. p. 754.)
John Gordon of Cushnie and Hallhead, was bom in 1507
and was killed at the battle of Pinkie in 1547 in vita patris,
having married a daughter of Duguid of Auchinlero by
whom he left a son.
Nate an ... of Cushnie.
1. George Gordon's second wife — ^Mortimer appears to
have married after his death • . • Lumsden of Maidlare,
ancestor of Cushnie,^ by whom she had a son Robert.
2. This Robert Lumsden appears to have had some
rights over the lands of Hallhead and Conquwhanderand,
as he assigns them to John Gord(m, son of G. G. of Q.,
127
128 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
by a charter dated 1511 {AtU. /. A. and B.^ vol. x. p. 885),
another in 1526.
IV. Robert Gordon of Hallhead {Note. — ^Had seisin on
June 16f 1554, February 10, vol. x. p. 754, witnessed a
charter of Robert Innes of Invermarkie, January 12^ 1579»
AtU. A. and B.j iii. 85), who succeeded his grandfather
before 1554. He married Janet, daughter of Innes of
Touchs (now Pitfour) and left a son.
v. Patrick Gordon of Hallhead {Note on V., second son
Robert, see Family of Leslie II. 94, and copy, fourth son
Walter. On June 8, 1612. Hist. S.C.^ vol. v. p. 86 . . .
of Hallhead, etc., from John D. of Rothes) who married
... by whom he had four sons (of whom the eldest,
Patrick, left an only child, Elii»beth, in 1641, O.S.P.).
Robert and Walter who died without issue and Robert
succeeded 1620.
VI. George Gordon^, who succeeded his brother in the
estate of Hallhead in 1622. He married and was suc-
ceeded by his son.
VII. Patrick Gordon, of Hallhead (Patrick of Hallhead
had charter in 1669, vol. iv. 887) had son John. He had
special service as heir to his father 1688, ditto is included
in list of commissioners of supply named in the Act of
Supply passed by the Parliament in 1685. Laws and
Ads of Parliament^ vol. iii, p. 17; James VII. Ditto in
Act of 1692 of William HI and of Queen Anne 1704. His
father buOt the house of Hallhead in 1686. Charles, the
fourth son, mortified 1000 marks Scots for the price (or )
of Cushnie 1780, who had charter in 1669 and 1688. He
married Margaret . . . (who was still living 1690), by
whom he had issue.
First, John Gordon of Hallhead, who married Mary Ross
of Auchlossan by whom he had three sons, William,
Robert and Patrick, the last of whom having succeeded
to the estate of Hallhead, made it over to his unde Robert.
Seccmd, Robert, of whom presently.
TABLE OF FAMILY OF GORDON 129
Third, Rev. Patrick Gordon.
Fourth, Charles Gordon, O.S.P.
1. Margaret married Major Ligertwood of Sillery.
2. Maria, married in 1795 Rev. Adam Fergusson, son
of Baron Fergusson of Dunffellahdy in Perthshire. The
second son Robert.
VIII. Robert Gordon acquired the estates of Hallhead
from his nephew Patrick as before-mentioned, and pur-
chased the estate of Esslemont in . He married
Isabella Byers, daughter of Yowley (?), by whom he had two
sons. (Note VIII. This Robert Gordon is believed to
have been a merchant at Bordeaux, where he acquired
sufficient means to purchase the lands of Esslemont.
Robert's second son Alexander was, by an unhappy
mischance, the cause of the death of one of his children at
Hallhead. While dancing her in his arms he struck her
head against the ceiling, from which she died on the spot.)
First, George, who succeeded him.
Second, Alexander, who married Jean Grierson of Lugg
without surviving issue. The elder son —
IX. George Gordon of Hallhead and Esslemont {Note
to IX.) G^rge Gordon was out in the '45, and his name
appears in the list of those specially exempted when the
Act of Indemnity was passed. Some years afterwards
the estates appear to have been granted by the Duke of
Cumberland by a *' tack or factory " dated July 26, 1746,
to James Chalmers, printer in Aberdeen, probably a friend
of the family, as the lands appear in the possession of
George Gordon's son Robert in due course. The dis-
graceful plunder of Mrs. Gordon's house in Aberdeen by
the Duke of Cumberland and General Hawley in 1746, is
fully detailed in Jacobite Memoirs^ W. and R. Chambers,
Edinburgh, 1884, where the statement is printed at length.
Mrs. Gordon {nie Anne Bowdler), was an Bnglishwoman,
daughter of Thomas Bowdler, Esq. (the expurgator of
Shakespeare), by whom he left issue.
K
180 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
X. Robert Gordon (Note X. This Robert is mentioned
in the Frmera of Philorthf vol. ii (?), p. 214, as voting for
... in the contested election for Aberdeenshire) of Hallhead
and Esslemont, married in France the daughter of Comit
Rabotin, who died (I think leaving one daughter), and
secondly, Lady Harriet Gordon, daughter of second Earl
of Aberdeen, by whom he had three sons.
Colonel G^rge Gordon.
Robert, who was Governor of Berbice and Demerara, and
William, an officer in the Engineers who distinguished
himself at the capture of Malta — ^and died at Malta about
1802. During the life of his second wife, Lady Harriet
Gordon, he abandoned the old castle of Esslemont and
built the older portion of the present mansion house.
XI. Colonel George Gordon succeeded his father, he
married Miss Anne Baird of Newbyth by whom he had
three sons and one daughter, Alicia Anne, who married
John James Hope Johnston, Esq., of Raehills. His
eldest son, Robert, succeeded him and one of the others,
William, was killed at Toulouse. He married secondly
Miss Napier, daughter of Captain the Hon. Charles
Napier, R.N., and by her had three daughters, Frances,
Georgina and Harriet, who all died unmarried, and one
son, Charles Napier Gordon, who succeeded his half-
brother and also died unmarried.
XII. Robert Gordon (married Miss Little Gilmour of
The Inch, nr. Edinburgh. He died 1828, aged thirty-
eight) had one daughter Anne, who married Henry Wolrige
about 1855. The third son, George, died unmarried,
1816.
XIII. Charles Napier Gordon died unmarried about
1867. He broke the entail on male heirs, so was succeeded
by his half-niece,
XIV. Anne Baird, married, 1855, Henry, son of Colonel
John Wolrige. He assumed the name of Wolrige Gordon,
and had issue,
TABLE OF FAMILY OF GORDON 181
1. Robert, bom 1857, Colonel Grenadier Guards, C. V.O.,
C.B. and D.S.O., assumed the name of Gordon-Gilmour
on succeeding to the estates of Liberton and Craigmillar,
Midlothian, married Lady Susan Lygon and has
issue —
1. John Little Gilmour and
(i) Mary.
(ii) Margaret,
(iii) Grizel.
2. John, Colonel, late Argyll and Sutherland Uigh-
landers.
8. Walter, Major, late Black Watch.
4. Harry, Major, late Cameron Highlanders.
1. Mary.
2. Edith.
XV. Colonel John Wolrige Gordon,^ who succeeded to
the estates of Hallhead and Esslemont on the death of his
father in 1906, married Isabel Hervey, only child of
William Hervey Woodhouse of Imham Hall, Lincolnshire,
and has issue —
1. Robert, bom 1890, 2nd Lieut. Grenadier Guards.
2. Edith.
8. Isabel.
(See No. X.) Robert Gordon's second son Robert (by
his second marriage), married Miss Austin and had a
daughter, Harriet Elizabeth, who married her first cousin,
Adam Dumford Gordon.
third son — ^William, married Frances Elrington,
daughter of Captain Thomas Elrington, Governor of
Plymouth Citadel, and had issue —
1. Adam Diunford, married his cousin, Harriet Elizabeth.
2. Thomas Rowley, married Catherine Freer.
8. Robert Cumming Hamilton, married Frances Freer,
1828, and had issue —
^ By the more usually accepted numeration Ck>lonei Wolrige Gordon
is the XVmth of Hallhead.
K 2
182 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
I. Adam Dumford, married his cousin. Harriet Elizabeth
(xordon, and had issue —
1. Amy Christian, died young.
2. Ada Mary.
8. Adam Lindsay (poet, died in Australia, leaving no
issue).
4. Clara Francesca Inez, married Chevalier Ratti, and
had issue —
(a) Henri Ratti.
(b) Cecilia Ratti.
5. Theodora, died young, and buried in Trinity (Chelten-
ham) churchyard.
2. Thomas Rowley, married Catherine Freer, and had
issue —
1. Harriet Frances, died unmarried, 1904.
2. Robert Adam, died unmarried.
8. Caroline, died unmarried.
8. Robert Cumming Hamilton Gordon. Given com-
mission in the Scotch Fusilier Guards, but exchanged later
to the 48th and 95th Regiments ; died, 1874.
His issue —
(a) George Hamilton Gordon, General, Royal Engineers,
married Emma Blanche Beatrice Case, in 1860, died in
1896, and had issue —
1. Edward Hyde Hamilton, married, first, Maude
Manders, by whom he had issue Estella Manders ; second,
Hilda d'Arcy Hulton, and had issue, Hermione Harriet.
2. George Vincent Hamilton, died unmarried, 1887.
8. William Alexander.
4. Mabel Annette, married Charles William Bennett,
Rector of Wolstone, in 1909.
5. Lilian Blanche, died unmarried, 1909.
(b) William Elrington, Admiral, Royal Navy, married
Emily Gorst in 1865, and had issue, Hamilton, Clerk in
Holy Orders, and died in 1897.
(c) Adam Charles, Clerk in Holy Orders, and Rector
TABLE OF FAMILY OF GORDON 188
of Fidlestone near Chester, married Georgina Anson, in
1866, died without issue, 1904.
(d) Hamilton Thomas, Lieut, in Bengal Engineers, E. I.
Company's service, died unmarried in India, in 1861.
(e) Frances Freer, unmarried.
(/) Richard Goodall, Master, King's School, Canterbury,
married Isabella Crawford, died without issue.
CHAPTER Vni
GORDON'S FATHER— A CHELTENHAM COLONEL NEWCOME
*' I remember some words that my father said
When I was an orohin vain; —
Qod rest his soul, in his narrow bed
These ten long yean he hath lain.
When I think one drop of the blood he bore
This faint heart surely must hold.
It may be my fancy and nothing more,
But this faint heart seemeth bold.
He said that as from the blood of grape
Or from juioe distilled from the grain.
False vigour, soon to evaporate.
Is lent to nerve and brain.
So the coward will dare on the gallant horse
What he never would dare alone.
Because he exults in a borrowed force.
And a hardihood not his own."
The Wearie Wayfarer (« Zu der Edlen Jagd ^').
Gordon wrote in his " Racing Ethics " —
^*The escape of the only Mameluke that survived
Mohammed Ali's treacherous massacre, is only one in-
stance among the many that may be cited of desperate
feats actually performed on horseback. There may be
men living in India at this moment who remember a
certain officer of irregular cavalry (Captain A. D. Gordon) ;
this man» furnished with a common boar spear and a sharp
sabre, but with no fire-arms, and mounted on his favourite
horse (probably not a pure Arab, but one of the purest
of that breed that could be obtained in Hindostan), used
to kill tigers single-handed on open ground.'*
Adam Dumford Gordon ^^ served his country with
distinction in the Indies. In 1825 he returned to England
134
S.St
• ••
• • •
• • •
•• • •
• V?
••• •
• •
• ••
• •••
GORDON'S FATHER 185
and married his cousin, Miss Harriet Gordon. He stood
a good deal over six feet. He was brilliantly clever.
He came home on leave, and his mother was determined
that he should not go out again, so when he fell in with his
cousin Harriet again, he married her. (He had stayed
with her father in Berbice.) It seems as if his mother
rather made up the match between the two cousins. But
Captain Gordon returned to India and was soon promoted
to the Captaincy of a regiment of Cavalry. He quickly
gained the love and admiration of the men for his daring
horsemanship and courageous conduct. His health broke
down and he left India in search of a better climate, and
he and Mrs. Gordon travelled about for some time. It is
said that the Gordons settled in Cheltenham when Lindsay
was six months old, but from a letter of Captain Gordon's
quoted by Mr. Howlett Ross, it would appear that he
was much older when he left the Azores, and it is now
agreed that he was seven when the family came to live
at Cheltenham."
Captain Grordon became, in 1846, Professor of Oriental
Languages at Cheltenham College, a post he held until his
death in 1857. He lived at first at 4, Pittville Villas ; at the
time of Lindsay's second period at the College the family
had removed to 25, Priory Street.
From Gordon's poems we gather his intense love for
his father. Mr. Howlett Ross says that Lindsay '* in
later years would fondly recall with faltering voice his
father's affectionate care, and recount with gleaming eye
and animated gesture his father's deeds in India." From
the fact that Gordon says in one poem —
" My parents bid me oroas the flood.
My kinafolk frowned at me.
They say I have belied my blood
And stained my pedigree.
But I must turn from those who chide,
And laugh at those who frown,
I cannot quench my stubborn pride
Nor keep my spirits down" —
186 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
one infers that some of Lindsay's early scrapes must
have been pretty considerable, so that even his father
thought that his only son would be better away from his
native land and early associations. Nevertheless, to the
end of his life Captain Gordon loved Lindsay dearly. His
adventurous spirit could sympathise with the son who so
resembled him, though in Lindsay Captain Gordon's
daring degenerated into recklessness.
In ^^ Whisperings in Wattle-boughs " the poet says —
<(
O tell me, father miney ere the good ship oroaa'd the brine,
On the gangway one mute hand-clasp we exchanged,
Do yon, paat the grave employ
For your stubborn reddesa boy.
Those petitions that in life were ne'er estrang'd.^
;i
Mr. Pickemell says that Captain Gordon, like Lindsay,
was " very tall with a long, narrow face."
Mr. H. H. Hornby recalls '^ that grand old man Gordon's
father, the Hindustani Master," who was so much loved
and respected, and Mr. W. de Salis Illgate remembers
that Lindsay ^' caused his father a good deal of anxiety."
Captain Gordon loved horses as passionately as did
Lindsay, and the Australian School of Poetry, founded
by his son, may thank the quiet College Master for the
fact that theirs is a Riding School of poets.
Captain Gordon did not live quite four years after
Lindsay sailed for Australia.
Poor Lindsay seems to have got his own measure
correctly. His father was his authority on sporting
matters, but he took no one's advice on the serious affairs
of life. He must have strained the ex-tiger-slayers'
patience at last, though he never lost his love, and, at least
in his father's life-time, we should have believed it Lindsay's
own fault that he got out of touch with his family, but
for the recent discovery about the villain who suppressed
his father's letters.
Poor Captain Gordon—- one imagines him starting off
from Pittville Villas one summer's day, and taking his
pretty little boy of seven to the College for the first time ;
GORDON'S FATHER 187
and nearly twelve years later there is that sad parting
on the gangway of the Julia^ when neither father nor son
could speak — so utter was thdr misery. Yet Captain
Gordon's death so soon after, only took him away from
sorrows to come. His son's tragic end would have been
the last drop in that already bitter cup. He had got his
son out of scrapes like the one at Worcester, given him
fresh starts, done everything he could, and then had to
say good-bye to him for life.
In an old Cheltenham Journal of June 1857 is the
following notice of Captain Gordon's death.
^' On the 17th inst., at Cheltenham, Adam Dumford
Gordon, Esquire, late Professor of Oriental Languages
in Cheltenham College."
At the College prize-giving a few days later. Captain
Robertson, father of the famous Rev. F. W. Robertson
who prepared in Cheltenham for the Army, and years
afterwards became curate of Christ Church, Cheltenham,
in his speech thus referred to Captain Gordon —
*^ It is with much concern that I have to state that
the College last week lost the most valuable services of
Mr. Gordon, an accomplished Oriental scholar, who for
many years has been the Oriental Professor of this institu-
tion ; a gentleman, not only of noble family, but a man of
personal nobility, of high moral worth, of exalted principles,
of deep, unpretending piety; all of which must have had
a silent influence on sixty or seventy pupils by whom he
was much beloved, and which will be appreciated here-
after. Those who knew Mr. Gordon in humble confidence
feel assured that he is now with the spirits of just men
made perfect in the enjoyment of their rest, for which
the soul of man so ardently yearns."
He might not enjoy that rest so very much unless
somehow the wayward spirit of his son, purified by suffer-
ing and his father's prayers and tears, should join his in
those higher regions where such adventurous souls as
Lindsay Gordon's may have scope to develop and cast
off earthly frailties.
188 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
There is a stone in Trinity Churck, Cheltenham, beneath
which lie Lindsay's father, mother and his two sisters, of
which he might have written—
" We remember the pangs that wrong xu.
When some went down to the pit.
Who faded as toaves among ns.
Who flitted as shadows flit.
What visions under the stone lie 7
What dreams in the shroud sleep dwell 7
For we saw the earth pit only.
And we only heard the knell.
We know not whether they slumber
Who waken on earth no more,
Ab the stars of the height in number,
Ab sands on the deep sea shore.
Shall stiffness bind them, and starkness
Enthral them by field and flood.
Till the sun shall be turned to darkness.
And the moon shall be turned to blood."
The following inscriptions are on the Gordon grave in
Trinity Churchyard, Cheltenham —
ADA MARY
daughter of
ADAM DUBinrOaD QOBDON
and HABRIBT XLIZABETH
ham 15th of March, 1832
expired 29th of November, 1847.
'* Because I lire ye shall live also." — St. John, 18.
ADAM DURNFORD QORDON
bom 29th of August, 1796
expired 17th of June, 1S57.
HARRIET ELIZABETH QORDON
bom 3rd of AuguM, 1806
expired April 29th, 1869.
'* There shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall
there be any more pain." — Rev. 21.
THSODORA GORDON
Their infant daughter
bom 3rd of September, 1841,
expired 3l8t of December, 1841.
*' They are without fault before the throne of Gud."
(INITV CHURCF
1, Chf.ltrniiam,
. WHERB Gordon'
yATHER, MOTl
[BR AND SISTKBi
i WERE BURIBIt.
1 dr-amiH/; hy Geri/ei
is/riliH CtO'gf Rowt.
• •
;• ;
• •
• • •
•:•
• ••'
::
GORDON'S FATHER 189
Colonel Arthur Lang, R.E., the hero mentioned in
Lord Roberts's Foriy-one Years in Indict for two of the
most dashing exploits in the capture of Delhi says,
^' I remember Gordon's father, Captain Gordon, and
admired and liked him very much," and Major-General
H. Cardew writes, ^^ I recollect his father. Captain Gordon,
who was Professor of Hindustani at the College. If I
mistake not he was appointed to that office by my brother-
in-law. Rev. T. A. Southwood, who was the Headmaster
of the Modem Department in those days."
Captain Herbert Vaughan was a pupil of Captain A. D.
Gordon's. He still keeps a silver pencil-case in his pocket
which he says Captain Gordon gave him nal as a priUf but
by way of encouragement to do better. Captain Vaughan
says that Captain Gordon was a very charming man
and tremendously clever, and was said to talk Hindustani
like a native. He would not call him a disciplinarian or
very cut out for a school-master* He was a most thorough
old gentleman and tried to manage the boys by kindness
and trusting them to do th^ work— which does not
always answer with such creatures. They were all very
fond of him. Inez Gordon used very often to come and
fetch her father home from the College. Captain Vaughan
may have spoken to her, but he doesn't remember ever
doing 8o. When asked if he thought her good-looking, he
said, '^ No, at any rate her good looks didn't appeal to
us boys ; she was very, very tall and lanky — ^like a yard of
pump- water, in fact." Gordon was never at the College
while Captain Vaughan was there, and he never remembers
seeing him. But he has heard a good deal about him
from friends who were actually at the College with Gordon.
He says that though Gordon was not formally expelled,
he always understood that Captain Gordon was told he
had better remove Lindsay. Captain Vaughan thinks
this was because Gordon used to go off in school-hours
to ride in steeplechases, and that he did this not once
but several times. He was a rather wild sort of boy but
140 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
with no real harm in him. He has heard that Gordon
was far gone in consumption, practically dying in fact, at
the time he shot himself.
Mrs. Cunliffe Martin says : '' Captain Gordon was a great
favourite of my parents and used often to dine at their
house. I have an idea as a small child that I was sent
with a message to Captain Gordon^s house, and that he
was then living in Northwick Terrace to be near the College
and to live economically, in order to be able to send all
he could to his wife in Italy. Personally I cannot recall
Captain Gordon, but my husband says there is a great look
of him in the portrait at the commencement of the poems.*'
Colonel Cunliffe Martin said he was an old pupil of
Captain Gordon's, who gave him a prisse and taught him
so well that he passed his exams, in languages six months
after he went out to India. Colonel Cunliffe Martin
said Captain Gordon always looked very s€ul and quite
an old man even when he first remembered him. He
said he expected he sometimes had a bad time at home,
and that was why he looked old and sad. He was very
tall and handsome with most charming manners, and was
so clever that he ought to have been able to have done
anything if he had stayed in India and ^' if Mr. Sladen
wants to know what Captain Gordon was like, tell him
he was exactly like Colonel Newcome.''
Mrs. Cunliffe Martin's mother knew the Gordons well, and
al¥rays got on with Mrs. Gordon. She says she has heard
that Captain and Mrs. Gordon didn't always get on very
well together, and that Mrs. Gordon was very extravagant.
Mrs. Martin's mother had an olive-wood sort of camp-stool
that Mrs. Gordon brought home from Italy, where she
went very often. They called Captain Gordon *^ Hindus-
tani Gordon " at the College. Neither Colonel nor Mrs.
Cunliffe Martin remember Lindsay at all.
Another informant says : "" Twenty-five years ago it
would have been easy to look for information about
Gordon. My father and mother must have known him
GORDON'S FATHER 141
well, yet I never heard them speak of him; he was con-
sidered a scapegrace, I suppose they thought the less said
about him the better. ... I have often heard of the
cousins of Lindsay, etc., but his name was never mentioned^
and until Mr. Howlett Boss wrote his life he was almost
forgotten. . . . On the other hand, his father was fre-
quently spoken of with admiration and affectionate
regard."
CHAPTER IX
ADAM LINDSAY GORDON, O.C.
" Oh I tell me, ancient friend, ever ready to defend
In our boyhood at the base of life's long hill.
Are you waking yet ? or sleeping 7
Have you left this vale of weeping 7
Or do you, like your comrade, linger still 7 '*
From " Whisv^nga in Wattle-Boughs.^*
With a brief record in the College Register, and a
pamphlet about Grordon preserved in the Reference
Department of the Public Library — Cheltenham dis-
misses this Old Cheltonian from her thoughts. Even so
she is kinder to Gordon than were some friends, if it is
true that they bought up all the manuscripts of his poems
that they could lay hands on, and burnt them.
The late Mr. Holland, of Prestbury, had an old news-
paper cutting which illustrates the saying, '^ No man is
a prophet in his own country and in his father's house."
"THE SPORTSMANLIKE VIEW.
" To the Editor of the Standard.
" Sir, — On reading your admirable article on the
Football Jubilee, I could not help recalling some lines of
poor ^ Lindsay Gordon,' now out of print, which express
your opinions and sentiments on the sports of our land.
You may possibly find space for them —
" ' No game was ever yet worth a rap.
For a rational man to play,
Into whioh no aooident, no mishap,
Could possibly find its way.
If you hold the willow, a shooter from Wills
May transform you into a hopper;
And the football meadow is rife with spills,
If you feel disposed for a cropper.
U2
ADAM LINDSAY GORDON, O.C. 148
In a rattling gallop with hound and hone.
Ton may chance to reverae the medal.
On the sward with the saddle yonr loins across.
And your hunter's loins in the saddle.
In the stubble you'll find it hard to frame.
A remonstrance firm yet civil,
When as oft as "our mutual friend" take aim.
Long odds may be laid on the rising game.
And against your gaiters leyel.
There's danger even when fish are caught,
To those who a wetting fear.
And what's worth having must aye be bought,
And sport's like life, and life's like sport.
It arn't all skittles and beer."'
"" Though banished to the Australian Bush» the love
of English sports and games, in which he excelled, was
strong upon him, and no one could ' hymn their praises '
with more manly vigour, more stirring description and
more exquisite pathos, than the Australian poet, who
sickened in a banishment for which he was socially and
constitutionally unfitted, and whose end was so sad.
Why his beautiful poems were bought up and suppressed
by his friends is best known to them^ we are losers by their
action.
" I am. Sir,
" Your obedient servant,
" G. H. B.
" March 14."
This may account for the fact that so little trace of
Gordon and his writings remains in Cheltenham.
^* Gordon was, at this time," says Fred Marshall — *^ I am
talking of him as a boy — ^very fond of all kinds of heroic
poetry, and began rhyming by paraphrasing the poetry
of those authors which he liked best. He despised Words-
worth and watery poetry, but revelled in Scott, Byron,
Moore, Longfellow and all writers of manly verse. He
used to repeat many passages of these authors; but he
had a very monotonous way of reciting, which did not
144 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
please the general audiences, who, however, were lost in
admiration at his powers of memory.
^^ ^ The Skeleton in Armour/ by Longfellow, * Harold
the Dauntless' and ^Lyulph's Tale,' by Scott were, I
remember, our favourite pieces, for he seemed to have
the grip of them better than of some of his sentimental
selections, such as ' The Corsair,' ^ Lara,' ^ Alp the
Renegade,' and several of Byron's creations, which he
evidently considered were types for special imitation. I
particularly remember that he liked Frank Smedley's
books which were then being issued, particularly Lewis
Arundel^ or (he Railroad of Life, and he made no secret
of regarding the hero of the novel as his model. But the
strangest kick in his gallop, or let me say, the queerest
bee in his bonnet, for he doubtless was touched in his
upper stories, was his fancy for Mr. Soapy Sponge, whose
achievements not only made him envious but even induced
him to order a hunting-coat on the same lines as the one
so admirably depicted by John Leech in the never-to-be-
forgotten book of Mr. Spongers Sporting Tour^ which
every sportsman who aspires to be thought worthy of
the title ought to have in his library. He went to
Mr. WiUiatn Draper (see Gordon's letters to C. P. Walker,
* my creditors from Draper down to Clee,' Clee was a
tobacconist of Cheltenham), the tailor elect of those who
rode to hounds or between the flags, and ordered a tawny>
short, cut-away coat, which, if it made him in his own
eyes an imitation of Soapy, certainly rendered him a
ridiculously conspicuous figure."
Other poets besides Gordon have lived in Cheltenham —
Sydney Dobell for many years, Lord Byron for a time at
484, High Street, the same house in which Haynes Bayly,
the forgotten author of the ** Mistletoe Bough " once lived.
Last but not least. Lord Tennyson wrote part of ^' In
Memoriam " in a house with a portico, opposite to where
the Great Western Station now is. Robert Stephen
Hawker was at the Grammar School.
ADAM LINDSAY GORDON, O.C. 146
Gordon is scdd to have written ** a sonnet to the landlady
in the visitors* book at the Old Black Horse, now meta-
morphosed into a eoifee-house.'* No one seems to
remember now whereabouts in the town the Old Black
Horse was. Mr. Fred Marshall had a painting of the old
sign stuck into his Gordon — a very rampant black horse
dancing on its hind legs on a red background.
Mr. George Norman remembers Gordon, though he
himself was only a boy when he went away. He says
Gordon managed to get ink> rather a fast set in the town.
He wore very eccentric clothes, big checks and plaids and
very sporting looking attire, generally. Mr. Norman says
he thinks Gordon used to send his poems to Fred Marshall,
and some of them were published in the Examiner in the
sixties. The late Frederick Stroud also said he remembered
that Gordon sent some poems to Fred Marshall.
Mr. Charles Jessop used to ride a great deal himself —
he has often seen Gordon riding out at Frestbury, and is
almost sure he saw him once win a steeplechase. He
thinks he wore a light blue jacket, and remembers him on
a black horse, very likely Lallah Rookh. He says that
it's so long ago he doesn't remember very clearly. They
were little scratch Hunt Steeplechases, mostly got up by
the two la Terri&res, Bamet, owner of Sir Peter Laurie,
Gordon and a few more. Mr. Jessop saw the sketch
that Gordon sent home to his uncle of himself on
Cadger. Ha says it is quite a recognisable sketch of
Gordon, but it makes him look too tall — ^he should say
Lindsay was only about his own hdght, five feet eleven
and a half inches. Gordon was a skylarking chap,
and Captain Grordon rather an austere sort of man, and
he used to have to lecture Lindsay pretty frequently.
** Lindsay was not expelled from the College, but sort of
rusticated, sent away for a time,'' says Mr. Jessop. Gordon
and some of the others managed to get into the scrapes
that Mr. Jessop himself just kept out of.
Mr. Harold Webb, in a letter to the Cheltenham Examiner ^
146 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
says, ^^ Gordon was capital company and very popular.
Acrostics were then much the fashion, and my father (who
was quite a good rhymester himself) always claimed to
have set Gordon versifying — of course for the sake of
some member of the fair sex.**
Few of Gordon's early rhymes seem to have survived
the attentions of his ^' friends *' — and Mr. Fred Marshall
preserved two of these.
Mr. Marshall says in his notes on Gordon, that ^^ he also
developed an ability to write poetry, some of it breathing
the same spirit of rebellion and hopelessness which
characterises his maturer efforts.
One of the earliest of Gordon's poems was an address
to his companions on the eve of his departure from
Cheltenham, which struck the keynote of the bitterness
and despondency which pervade his writings. He was
then hardly eighteen.
(From " Early Adieox ")
'* For I through folly's paths have ran
My headlong goal to win
Nor pleasure's paths have oared to shun.
When pleasure sweetened sin.
Let those who will their failings mask.
To mine I frankly own;
But for them pardon will I ask
Of none save Heaven alone."
Mr. Wyndham Bryer, who practised in Cheltenham as
a veterinary surgeon for many years, says that Gordon,
his mother and sister, were all very tall and thin — ^there
was only one sister at home when Lindsay sailed for
Australia, and she did not even say good-bye to him.
(From " Whisperings on Wattle-boughs ")
" Oh I tell me, sister dear, parting word and parting tear
Never passed between us. Let me bear the blame.
Are you living, girl, or dead ? bitter tears since then I've shed
For the lips that lisp'd with mine a mother's name." ^
And again —
^ Miss Gordon thinks Mis. Gordon and Inez were abroad when
Lindsay sailed for Australia.
ADAM LINDSAY GORDON, 0,C. 147
(From "Early Adienx")
*' And thou from whom for aye to part
Grievee more than tongue can tell.
May Heaven preserve thy guilelees heart.
Sweet sister — ^Fare — thee — well."
A Cheltenham clergyman who was a neighbour of the
Gordons in Priory Street, says that he was brought up
to the Law, and once heard a lady give clearer evidence
in a lawsuit than that of any other woman he ever heard.
It was a case at Gloucester, and she was either Lindsay's
married sister or his cousin.
A friend of Gordon's says that Mrs. Gordon resented
the expense Lindsay often caused his father, and thought
that the money would be better spent on herself and her
daughters. Two of Lindsay's sisters were buried at
Cheltenham, Ada Mary and Theodora. The one to whom
he wrote the lines ^'To My Sister" was named Liez.
She was married against the wishes of her family to an
Italian named Ratti, and has children living.
Mrs. Gordon certainly did not spoil her only son, for he
wrote of her in *' Early Adieux " —
** My Mother is a stately dame»
Who oft would chide with me;
She saith my riot bringeth shame.
And stains my pedigree.
Fd reck not what my friends might know
Or what the world might say
Did I but think some tears would flow.
When I am far away.
Perchance my Mother will recall
My memory with a sigh;
My gentle sister's tears may fall
And dim her laughing eye;
Perhaps a loving thought may gleam.
And fringe its saddened ray.
When Uhe a nighimare^a troMed dream
I, outcast, pass away.
Then once again, farewell to those
Whoe'er for me have sighed;
For pleasures melt away like snows.
And hopes like shadows glide.
148 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Adieu, my Mother I if no more
Thy Bon'8 face thou may^Bt see
At least those many caies are o'er
So oft times oaused by me.
My lot is fiz'd I The die is oast.
For me home hath no joy I
Oh pardon then all follies past,
And bless yonr wayward boy I '*
There are still Gordons of the family living in Gloucester-
shire. Miss Frances Gordon of Wickwar, Gloucestershire,
who has given great assistance in the compilation of this
book, was Lindsay Gordon's first cousin.
It is said that at times Mrs. A. D. Gordon had fitS/ of
most diabolical, uncontrollable temper, indeed she seemed
almost beside herself. She let her eldest child fall from
her arms, and poor little Amy Christian was crippled and
died very young. She sent Theodora (buried in Trinity
Churchyard) out in a bitter east wind, and that was the
end of her. Ada Mary only lived to be fourteen. ** She
was a very nice, pretty girl," Miss Gordon says, ^^and
very kind to me when I was a tiny child. She died of
consumption. Lindsay never published the lines he wrote
to Liez, and about Ada's grave. They were foimd after
his death. He, like every one else, had a deep affection
for this gentle and charming child who was only nineteen
months older than himself. Liez married an Italian,
Cavaliere Ratti. Her son Henri came to see Miss Gordon
once — and told them about Inez's last years.
Gordon mentions 25, Priory Street, in one of his poems —
"How vivid RecoUeotion's hand
Be-ealls the scene onoe more I
I see the same tall poplars stand
Beside the garden-door.
I see the bird*oage hanging still
And where my sister set
The flower on the window sill,
Can they be living yet ? "
He also addresses one of his letters to Charley Walker
from this house.
ADAM LINDSAY GORDON, O.C. 149
A Priory Street neighbour remembers "The poplars
by the garden gate." There were three of them by the
gate of a garden the Gordons had across the road opposite
to their house. It was a piece of waste ground which
Captain Gordon rented and turned into a garden. The
poplars were cut down some years ago^ though the ground
is still a garden.
*^ Apart from these known causes for moodiness and
melancholy,*' says Mr. F. Marshall, " Gordon had sorrows
and trials which being domestic can hardly be told or
even touched upon here." And again, " Gordon caused
great anxiety to his retiring and methodical ^ parents,
but they bore with him patiently until the last straw
broke the camel's back in the form of fisticuffs." The
late Fred Marshall in the Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic
News says, " An escapade involving dangerous conse-
quences which need not be particularised, helped to induce
him to try his fortunes in Australia."
" It is well known to L. Gordon's friends and com-
panions that although he retained to his penultimate days
the physical vigour which marked his youthful efforts,
and that daring spirit which is well described as ' cussed-
ness,' he suffered intermittently from the consequences of
his early life, and this forms the key to that bitter personal
feeling which gives a dramatic touch to his writing.
*^But apart from these known causes for moodiness
and melancholy he had sorrows and trials which, being
domestic, can hardly be told or even touched upon here.
He never had the satisfaction which imaginative and
talentful men have so often experienced in the congenial
society of friends. A well-built and blooded companion
with a mens sana in corpore sano moved him, if not to
positive jealousy, to excessive anger and disgust, for it
was his aspiration to be everything that was noble, pure
and true, and his inability to act up to his own standard
of excellence infuriated him. In his life's path, calamity
^ This epithet is grotesquely inapplicable to Mrs. Gordon.
150 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
appeared to follow calamity. Destiny not reason seemed
the spinner of the web that was weaved for him. With
Keats he might have exclaimed^ ^ Despair is forced upon
me by habit.' But whatever be the inspiration, Lindsay
Gordon's verses will be sure to attract attention.'' —
(Quotation from Examiner ^ July 18, 1887).
The late Dean Close, when Rector of Cheltenham,
campaigned most successfully against the once famous
Cheltenham Steeplechases, so that at that time the town
was called *^ Close Cheltenham." Gordon refers to this
in his Boeing Ethics^ written in Australia.
The Gordons were buried in Trinity Churchyard, and
probably attended the church which is under the sway
of the Simeon trustees, and the incumbent of the daughter
church held the same views as Dean Close. Mrs. Gordon
is said to have been almost eccentric in her religious views,
and one can imagine that Gordon's love of steeplechasing
and boxing did not make his home life any happier.
In the Cheltenham College Register is the following
reference to Lindsay: ^^Gobdon — Adam Lindsay. Son
of Captain Adam Dumford Gordon, Bengal Cavalry,
4, Pittville Villas, Cheltenham, bom 19th of October, 1888.
Day boy. Came to College July 1841. Left June 1842.
Re-entered 1851. (It is not known when he left.)
" Was at the Royal Military Academy, Woolwich, 1848,
but left before receiving his commission. For some
time sheep-farming in South Australia, afterwards went
to Melbourne, Victoria. Represented^ Victoria in the
South Australian Parliament 1865-66. Was considered
the first of Australian poets and the best Amateur Steeple-
chase rider in the colony.
^^ Author of Sea Spray and Smoke Drift, Bush BaUads
and GaUoping Bhffmes, Aahtaroth and Dramatic Lyrics, etc.
Died at Brighton near Melbourne, 24th of June, 1870.
^^ For an accoimt of his works see Temple Bar for
February 1884 and October 1897, also J. Hewlett Ross's
^ t. e. the Distriot of Viotoria in South AnstraUa.
ADAM LINDSAY GORDON, O.C. 151
Life of Adam Lindsay Gordon^ published by S. J. Mullen,
29» Ludgate Hill, London, E.G., and H. M. Walbrook's
Life and Writings of Adam Lindsay Gordon, published at
the Cheltenham Chronicle Office."
The first boy entered at Cheltenham College was the
late Lord James of Hereford, who as a very little boy
remembered being alone in the school and receiving the
other new boys one by one ^* as a host might his guests."
Gordon was also one of the first boys, though he was only
a child of seven. "" No one can appreciate his (Gordon's)
works more highly than I do," said Lord James, *^ but I
regret to say I never knew him. I have no recollection
of his being at the College 1841-42, whilst I was at school
there." And again, "' I have the greatest admiration for
Gordon's poems."
Ifr. H. H. Hornby remembers Lindsay's looks well
and those of '' that * grand old man ' his father, who was
so much loved and respected." He thinks Gordon was
at a Preparatory School during some of the years between
his first and second periods at the College. Mr. Hornby
also sfiiys that he ^^ had a very dreamy look, as became
a future poet. He was a Day boy and in the Military
and Civil Department, and I was a Boarder and in the
Classical Department, he was also two years my jimior,
80 that we did not come into very dose contact."
Mr. W. de Salis Filgate, another old schoolfellow of
Gordon's, like Ifr. Hornby was on the Classical side of the
College, or he would most likely remember Gordon better.
Mr. Filgate, who was Captain of the School XI, had not
the same tastes ; he did not care for the same sports as
Gordon, who was ^^ not fond of cricket and football, though
very fond of horses."
What Mr. Filgate knew of Gordon he ^^ always liked.
Gordon was a general favourite — high-spirited and very
amusing — ^and good company. He caused his father a
good deal of anxiety through his love of adventure and
generally boyish exploits, but never through any evil
162 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
ways. He was a very pleasant-looking boy with dark
curly hair,"
Mr. Pickemell (the '' Mr. Thomas *' of Grand National
fame), who is generally considered to have been the
^^ ancient friend '' mentioned in the heading of this chapter,
says, *^ I ought to remember Gordon, for I sat three places
from him at the College — ^we were the greatest of friends."
He says also that Gk>rdon was considered ^^ a stupid and
unintelligent boy at the College."
Richard Goodall Gordon, Lindsay's cousin, was much
younger than Lindsay, and came to the College after he
had left. He was in 1868 an assistant master at the
King's School, Canterbury. He died comparatively
recently. He was the son of Lindsay's unde at Worcester.
Captain Robert Cumming Hamilton Gk>rdon.
Richard Goodall's elder brother, Hamilton Thomas, who
was bom in 1886, was nearly three years younger than
Lindsay. He seems to have been a clever, industrious
boy, and no doubt Mrs. Gordon often called Lindsay's
attention to the difference between his own school career
and his cousin's. In 1851 Hamilton won the fourth class
prize at the College Prize-Giving in Jime. In 1852 he
won the Divinity Prize.
When in the first class (second MUitary Division),
Hamilton Gk>rdon won the Scale plan-drawing prize (Reid's
Law of Storms). And the year before Lindsay sailed for
Australia, Hamilton finished up his Cheltenham career
with ^clat. The Cheltenham Journal for December 11,
1852, has the following paragraph about him —
^*A 4th India Cadetship presented to the College by
Sir F. Law-Lushington, has been awarded after a severe
competition to Mr. Gordon, a nephew of A. D. Gordon, Esq.,
the Hindustani Master of the Institution." At Addis-
combe Military College, Hamilton Gordon won the 1st
Prize for Military and the 2nd for Civil Training. He
became 2nd Lieutenant in the Bengal Engineers in 1855,
Lieutenant in 1857, and died on the Hoogly, off Calpee,
ADAM LINDSAY GORDON, O.C. 168
in 1861. Thus, at only twenty-five, his promising career
was cut short.
Robert Adam Gordon, son of Thomas Rowley Gordon,
Esq., Bengal, another uncle who lived in Cheltenham,
was bom March 6, 1882. He was a Day boy and left
December 1849. He seems to have been very popular,
and many old Cheltonians talk of him when questioned
about Adam Lindsay. He was afterwards in the War
Office, and died early of consumption. Captain Vaughan
says that Lindsay was far gone with consumption when
he shot himself.
Miss Gordon says ** Robert Adam Gordon was the son
of my tmcle Tom (Thomas Rowley Gk>rdon), his father
was in the Guards — ^the Duke of Gloucester took him and
my father both into his regiment. He (Thomas Rowley,
married a sister of my mother's, so we were double first
cousins, and we used to see a good deal of him. He was
one of the first boys when the College was opened."
Mr. W. L. Newman, one of Dobson's most brilliant
Cheltenham pupils, a Fellow of Balliol, who won the two
great University Scholarships at Oxford, remembers
walking home from the College with Captain Gordon, who
was a tall, fine-looking man — ^but he looked very old and
sad. Mr. Newman once went to a dance at 4, Pittville
Villas, and sat next Captain Gordon at supper. That was
the only time he met Inez — ^who was a remarkably nice-
looking girl. With Robert Gordon he was much more
intimate, indeed they became great friends. Robert was
a very nice fellow.
Captain R. C. H. Gordon had a son Adam, brother of
Miss F. Gordon, who was not at Cheltenham College at all,
but was at Cambridge with Robert Adam.
It is not known when Gordon left the College, which he
re-entered in I85I. Between 1841 when he left the College
the first time, and 1848 when he entered Woolwich, Gordon
is said to have been in Cheltenham or its neighbourhood.
He re-entered the College with a notoriety in local sporting
164 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
circles which he could not have built up had he been
away at a Boarding School. There is no record at the
Coll^[e that Gordon was ever expelled — ^though one local
writer says that his fondness for riding and his desire to
be conspicuous got him into serious disrepute with the
College Magnates. . . . The fame which followed these
^^ deeds of the brave and blows of the strong *' proved his
bane, for he was ^^ scratched from all his engagements '' at
Cheltenham College.
Mr. Howlett Ross says that Gordon's ^' name was erased
from the list of pupils at Cheltenham College for insub-
ordination or other acts as culpable. He himself admitted
that he was expelled from another public school for
absenting himself in order to ride in a steeplechase."
Mr. Hunter, who has for many years been bursar and
secretary at Cheltenham College, denies this, and so does
the present headmaster of the Royal Grammar School at
Worcester where Gordon was a pupil for a year and a half
(see p. 7). Other old Chdtonians have recorded their
reminiscences of Gordon.
The records of the Royal Academy, Woolwich, contain
the following entry —
"Adam Lindsay Gordon —
Appointed 29th May /48.
Age 14 yrs. 7 mths.
.Toined 8th August /48.
Passed Probationer's Exam. 12th Decem. /49.
Withdrawn 80th June /51 in pursuance of his Lordship
the Master-General's direction contained in Mr.
Elliott's letter of 14th June 1851."
There is no trace of this letter at Woolwich, and it is
probable that it was destroyed in the fire which occurred
there in 1878.
From an extract copied from Major Guggisberg's book
The Shop — The Story of the Royal Military Academy^ it
would appear that Gordon's love of sport led him into
acts which were certainly unconventional.
ADAM LINDSAY GORDON, O.C. 156
**Of Adam Lindsay Gordon the Australian Poet and
Stockrider * Gunner Jingo ' (Gen. T. Bland Strange)
says, ^He was the exact opposite of Charles Gordon,
a dreamy lad with a far-off look in his eyes, indicative
perhaps of the touching and philosophical ballads so dear
to every Australian heart, redolent as they are of fatalism
and wattle blossoms, though scarcely indicative of the
man who '^ beat the Favourite." He was a keen sports-
man, however, even in those early days ; so keen, indeed,
that it led to his leaving the R.M.A. Passionately
fond of animals and devoted to racing, he bought a
horse, agreeing with the dealer to pay for it by instalments.
As a local meeting was coming off he entered for one
of the races, and spent his spare time in training his
horse. Unfortimately, funds ran out, several instalments
became overdue, and the dealer refused to let him take
his horse out of the stable. Here was a predicament 1
Crordon stood to lose heavily if his horse did not start,
so with his bosom friend among the cadets, he stole the
steed from the stable the morning of the race, rode him
gallantly to victory and paid the inevitable consequences
by being sunmioned for horse-stealing. Li Australia
he wrote his beautiful, stirring, pathetic poems — ^who has
not read them has missed mudi.' *'
This storv is almost identical with the Worcester one —
Major Guggisberg thinks that Gordon did not steal two
horses, but that tradition had merely transferred the
locality from Worcester to Woolwich.
It is very strange that so little is known of Grordon's
three years at Woolwich. Mr. Frederick Marshall says
that while there ''from all accounts he displayed his
athletic acquirements to some tune.''
Major-General Cardew says : '' I recollect Adam Gordon
very well, we joined the R.M. Academy together in
August 1848 ; as near as I can recollect we were ninth and
tenth in a batch of thirty-five cadets, and sat in adjoin-
ing desks during our studies for the first six months,
and therefore knew one another well and became great
156 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
chums. I recollect being struck with his steady, assiduous
character, we both had a rough time of it during our two
first terms, but were none the worse for it. I rather think
he was a sharper boy than I was. After the first examina-
tion we were not so closely associated and met only now
and again, for we were in different buildings, both as
regards living and studies. I am sorry I cannot give
any further information about my (one-time) old friend,
for we were destined never to meet again after leaving the
Academy. I am sorry to think from your letter that my
friend of early days is not now alive. . . . Thank you for
sending me the photograph of my old friend Adam Gordon,
poor fellow, his was a somewhat tragic history. He and
I must have been at Cheltenham College together for a
short time. I was there from 1845 to 1848, but he left
the College before we went up for the Academy."
Miss Sidebottom says she thinks Lindsay got into
rather hot water for keeping a horse at Woolwich,
" which was against the regulations, and he could not
afford it."
" I*m going to perform again the week after the races,"
wrote Gordon from Cheltenham to a friend in Worcester
in 1858, ^^ at the York Theatre in an amateur performance,
having had my services strenuously requested to carUribuie
to the talent of the company.^* Mr. W. J. Crawford (the
Editor of the Cheltenham Looker-On) says, ^^ As to Gordon's
reference to the York Theatre, he must have meant the
Lyceum Theatre, which in 1858 occupied, I believe, the
site of the present Oddfellows' Hall in York Passage,
High Street."
Mrs. Turk, daughter of the printer-actor, Mr. Shenton,
remembers Gordon well, but as a lover of poetry rather than
for his connection with her father in private theatricals.
She was a very young girl in her father's shop and Lindsay
used to come in sometimes with Fred Marshall and others,
but often alone. ^^ He would ask for my father, and I
used to go and fetch him — ^and then he would talk to my
ADAM LINDSAY GORDON, O.C. 157
father for a long time. He never said much to me beyond
asking if father was in or saying good-morning. But I
always associate him with one particular comer of the shop.
He used to sort of loll up against the wall at the end of
the counter nearest the window. It is all very much
altered but I can see him there now, very tall, with dark
curly hair, loosely-built with no chest at all, and dressed
in an extraordinary green coat, not bottler-green, exactly
the colour of that aspidistra plant over there. He looked
as if he had outgrown his strength and he stooped very
much. My father loved poetry and was always reading
and trying to educate himself more and more — ^I dare say
this had given them the same tastes, and that was why
they liked talking to each other so much.''
Colonel Kendall Coghill, C.B., a distinguished old
Cheltonian who, like Gordon, went to Cheltenham College
on its opening day and was present at the stonning of
Delhi, says : ^' Though you have trenched down deep into
my ^ subliminals ' you have not gone deep enough to
enable me to recall Adam Lindsay Gordon. I attribute
my failure to the fact that he could have been but a short
time there with me, for though we were both in the
College in 1841 I can find no trace of when he left so as to
enable him to return in 1851. He, too, took a prominent
part in private theatricals.''
One catches glimpses of Gordon's life after he left Chelten-
ham, some of which do not seem to have been sketched
even in Australian writings about him. A Cheltenham
resident, Mrs. J. A. Fergusson, remembers seeing Gordon
when she was a child on a station in South Australia.
She says he was very tall with clear-cut features, and looked
very fit, and had not an ounce of superfluous flesh on him.
His hair was thinner and more closely cut than in his por-
traits. He had a very prominent Adam's Apple in his
throat, which feature impressed itself on her chQdish mind.
Her husband. Colonel Fergusson, was, at the time of
Gordon's death, his brother's aide-de-camp when the late
158 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Sir James Fergusson was Gk>vemor of South Australia.
She says she well remembers the general grief and con-
sternation which the news of Grordon's death caused.
One wonders if " the Sick Stockrider," when the evil days
came on him, in which he said there was no pleasiire in
them, felt a longing for the prim, pretty town he had
shocked so long ago. When he was in it he loved the
country round, and felt as if he could only breathe up
among the hills, but now it would do him good to see it all
again; the little cheerful house in Pittville Villas, the
gloomy high house in Priory Street ; even all the old ladies
in bath-chairs hurrying to hear the Elect of the Simeon
trustees ; or his dear Prestbury at whose church things are
tending upwards. Or perhaps could he return he would
wander into gloomy Trinity, in whose churchyard, beneath
that cruel, hideous stone, slept all this Stockrider's dear
ones, parents and sisters.
The folks in Trinity Church Parish in Cheltenham
know next to nothing of Ck>rdon. How should they
indeed ? It is only the parish where the seven-year-old
commenced his long connection with Cheltenham, and
where his parents and sisters were buried. Why, indeed,
should he be remembered there ? Yet an almanack was
made up of the favourite quotations of the Parishioners of
Trinity — and by some strange chance two stanzas of
Gordon's got into it. So there is hope that (rordon's
two great Cotswold poems may yet be read and loved in
Trinity Parish, Cheltenham. People may ask who wrote
them, and be told that they are ^' only raking up the dis-
reputable past of a disreputable person." He is past
their scorn. He called on them for pity — called on his
dead in turn, and there was none to pity him — not
one —
" All silent — ^they are dumb, and the breezes go and oome,
With an apathy that mooka at man's distress;
Laugh scoffers, while you may I
I could bow me down and pray,
For an answer that might stay my bitterness.**
E sdMch-iuObI Huiti
rru^gepBilofhiiriek
V tinkJini; HHind.
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ADAM LINDSAY GORDON, O.C. 159
St. Bfaiy's Parish Church, the " sweet St, Mary's '* of
Gordon's poem, is the subject of an excellent monograph
by Mr. J. Sawyer, editor of the Cheltenham Examiner.
Hie bells Crordon heard had lately a narrow escape of
falling down, steeple and all. In the church is the
monument to Lady d'Oyley. Warren Hastings wrote
the inscription and used to come to Cheltenham to super-
intend the erection of the monument during the absence
in Lidia of his friend Sir John d'Oyley. Hastings and his
wife stayed in Cheltenham several times — ^he was closely
connected with Cheltenham and the Cotswolds. He lived
a long time and was buried at Daylesford. There are
Hastings's buried in the parish churchyard — ^possibly
relatives, and before Warren went out to India the first
time, he made over to his sister the piece of land where the
Plough Hotel now stands.
But there was a remnant even in Cheltenham ; Frederick
Marshall, his faithful friend tried to keep Lindsay's memory
green. The Chettenham Examiner and the Cheltenham
Loohet'On welcome any discussion about Gordon, and
Mr. H. M. Walbrook's pamphlet on Gordon appeared
originally in the Cheltenham Chronicle,
George Stevens put away one of Lindsay's poems, which
was found after his death among his letters, and old Mr.
Holland kept two faded newspaper cuttings about the
poet, whom he remembered as a school-boy.
CHAPTER X
"THE KNOCK OUT OF EDWARDS BY LINDSAY OOBDON"
c«
When with satellites round them, the oentre
Of all eyes, hard pressed by the crowd.
The pair, horse and rider, re-enter
The gate midst a shout long and loud,
Tou may feel as you might feel just landed
Full length on the grass from a dip
Of a vicious cross-counter, right-handed.
Or upper-out whizsing from hip.
And that's not so bad if you're picked up
Dtsoreetly, and carefully nursed;
Loose teeth by the sponge are soon lick'd up.
And, next time, you may get home first !
Still Fm not sure youM like it exactly
(Such tastes, as a rule, are acquired), /
And you'll find in a nutshell this fact lie,
' Bruised optics are not much admired.
Do I bore you with vulgar allusions 7
Forgive me, I speak as I feel,
I've ponder'd and made my conclusions
As the mill grinds the com for the meal.
So man, striving boldly but blindly,
Qiound piece-meal in Destiny's mill.
At his best taking punishment kindly.
Is only a chopping-block still.*'
A, L. Qcfdon in " Ex Fnmo dare Lucem.''
Thby walked down the High Street, two college-boys —
a tall curly-haired boy of seventeen, and a boy about a
year younger, with very blue eyes.
The Law of Opposites and the Love of Sport had drawn
them together despite some difference in age and disposi-
tion. They passed the Town Clock — ^below the salt, so
to speak, and beyond the Great Gulf. One half the world
100
THE KNOCK OUT OF EDWARDS 161
in Cheltenham does not know how the other half lives.
They went on, even to the region of fried-fish shops and
tripe and such-like. Details like these troubled not the
Ea^rywig's votaries and of such were the twain.
lliey do not seem to have loomed largely in the College
prize-lists, though one was the son of its Professor of
Oriental languages, and both lads had relatives who
preferred serious study to sport and would have liked to
have kept them on the right side of the clock. The bigger
boy was Adam Lindsay Gk>rdon.
The other, Thomas Pickemell, a hero of the Sporting
Press, won three Grand Nationals and countless other
steeplechases. It was quite another sport that drew them
hitherwards. They turned down an alley to the right of
Lower High Street. This, again, had a sharp turn in it,
and then there was an open door and a steep stair-case.
At the top of the stairs stood the great Earywig himself,
for this was his innermost shrine — ^the Roebuck Inn — and
now his admirers were coming thick and fast. Soldiers
and sailors and lawyers (and some say magistrates),
sporting men of all sorts and sizes, and College boys. It
was a big room with two painted chimney-pieces and an
old-fashioned wall-paper which gave it a homely appearance.
A great chandelier lighted it, and there were raised tiers
of seats at the end near the door and a clear space at the
top of the room.
It was a grand field-day of the Earywig's pupils, and
to-night the College boys had turned up in force, for the
last item on an attractive programme was a set-to between
the Professor of the Fistic Science of ^^the classic Roe-
buck '' and the son of the Professor of Oriental Languages
at Cheltenham College.
Gordon was Edwards's show pupil, and Jem had grown
quite proud of him and was generally glad to trot him out
at these festive gatherings. As for Gordon, though of
course the Roebuck was best of all, Mr. Pickemell says
he ** would go anywhere to get opportunities for boxing."
«4
162 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
It is said that Gordon frequented Mops and Race-
Meetings, €uid disdained no country-man as an antagonist.
In booths at country fairs he challenged all comers to
single combat and {poor Mrs. Harriet Gordon and poor
College Master) handed roimd his hat afterwards for stray
coppers wherewith to salve the bruises of his rustic oppo-
nents. For he was far too good for most of them. Only
the great Earywig himself and Tom Sayers, who was
training out at Prestbury, were much more than a match
for Gk>rdon in these parts.
Gordon's hobby was boxing," says Mr. Pickernell,
and he used to go to Edwards's place in High Street
practising. Edwards was at this time the Middle- Weight
Champion Fighter. I was very fond of boxing too, and
used to go with him, but he was a year older and very
grown up for his age. He seemed a man amongst men when
I was only a boy. I seemed to occupy a much more impor-
tant position than I really did when I acted as Lindsay's
bottle-holder while he sparred with Edwards."
Well, on that particular evening the Professor of Pugilism
was holding a sort of exam. — ^not exactly a viv& voce one
— ^what would one call it ? At any rate it concerned
itself as much with the outsides as with the insides of his
pupils' heads. There was, as has been said, a programme
and Gordon was one of the star performers. More than
this, Edwards had recently described the boy as ^^ a mere
target," which remark had perhaps put his pet pupil's
back up a bit. At any rate it had spurred Ck>rdon on to
distinguish himself or perish in the attempt.
Mr. Pickernell says that Edwards's description of Gordon
was " a very true one. He was so stupid, he never tried to
defend himself when he was boxing and never seemed to
care where the other man hit him."
Anyhow that evening Gordon attacked the Earywig
fiercely, and although Edwards cotdd easily have beaten
him, if he had wanted to, he went on parrying Gordon's
blows and giving him every opportunity to show his skill.
si«
THE KNOCK OUT OF EDWARDS 168
Suddenly some one complcdned that a thief was is the room
and had picked his pocket. This momentarily distracted
the attention of Edwards, who seems to have been his own
M.C., and Gordon immediately got in a blow which sent
Jem staggering against the mantel -shelf. He struck his
head against it with such force that for some seconds the
strong prize-fighter lay stunned and bleeding. "" I can
see that pcdnted mantelpiece as if I were looking at it
now," is ^' Mr. Thomas's " comment on the astonishment
which he has not got over in sixty years.
Thus, by a mere fluke, Ck>rdon was one too many for
his Mentor and earned himself a spurious reputation as
^' the Conqueror of the unbeaten Cheltenham Champion."
Thus happened what Mr. Pickemell calls the ^' Knock out
of Edwards by Lindsay Gk)rdon," in which he officiated
as Master of Gordon's wardrobe so many years ago.
Says Fred Marshall—
^' I knew Lindsay Crordon in his teens well. For more
than three years I was his constant companion in many an
escapade. I have held his clothes while he did a bit of
fighting, and looked out for the police. He operated with
his fists very often. He rather liked the ordeal of single
combat, and generally got the best of it; construe this
expression as you please.
♦ ♦♦♦♦♦
I was wont to wag my tongue and create disputes and
difficulties when in mixed company, which Gordon had to
adjust with his fists ; I think he rather liked me to be with
him to act as I did, the left-hand horseman to the wild
huntsman who pointed the road to a row. As I was weak
of body, I left him to do the fighting. He was like Jem
Bludso, Colonel Hay's Fireman of the Mississippi.
'* A oaieless ohap in his talk was he,
A longhish hand in a row.
He never bragged, and he never funked,
I reckon he never koew how."
He was gaunt and tall, gloomy and slightly savage-
M z
164 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
looking (for he never smiled), and this precious coat^
looked the most incongruous garment possible to conceive.
However, no one ever ventured to poke any fun at him by
reason of his get-up» for he told the truth when he said in
his address " To my Sister " —
" But those who brand me with d]4grace,
Will Boaroely dare to say.
They spoke a tannt before my face
And got unscathed away.^*
That was true for Lindsay I Those who tackled him
were like the ^' Tarrier dawg who got hold of the wrong
Tom Cat/' '' Small Hopes," in the lUuHrated Sporting
and Dramatic News.
George Stevens's son (Stevens, like Gk>rdon, knew the
Earywig well) said it was quite necessary to get a picture
of the celebrated room at the Roebuck, as the moment
when Edwards was knocked out by Gordon was probably
the proudest moment in the life of the latter.
The picture has been obtained. It was taken in the
presence of the old soldier who once carried the Earywig's
love-letters to a lady in a neighbouring ^^ Passage." Jem
paid him a penny a letter.
With Mr. Bimce (Cupid's Messenger), was the Old Sailor
who looks after Edwards's grave. He scrubbed the head-
stone very white when a photograph of the grave was
taken. The inscription on the stone is very faint, and
Mr. Miles often dilates on the cleverness of a North Country
journalist who lay flat on the ground and managed to
spell out every word of the lettering.
The old room at the Roebuck was rather dark when
Mr. Miles and Mr. Bunce superintended the taking of its
photograph. Cobwebs hung irom the quaint old windows,
but in the old-world atmosphere of gloom and mystery
the tales of the old man who had known Edwards called
up a mental picture as clear as any photograph. Already one
seemed to see the rows of spectators, the denizens of Lower
^ The Soapy Sponge ooat.
THE KNOCK OXJT OF EDWARDS 165
Street, a magistrate or so present unofficially
(indeed these good sportsmen are said sometimes to have
given a hint of an imminent police raid), perhaps Mr. Fred
Marshall (the Sporting Lawyer who wrote so much and
so lovingly of his friend Gordon), and Tom Oliver, George
Stevens, William Archer and the college boys — ^Tom
Pickemell, and very likely " big George Griffiths," and his
bigger brother Ned — ^and the rest.
One sees the prostrate prize-fighter and Lindsay and his
second paralyzed with astonishment. But Mr. Bunce
had other memories. During the photograph's long
exposure and while in the darkened room one saw so
clearly into the past, the old sailor suddenly turned roimd
and dramatically pointed to the door : ^' I think I see
him now," he said, ^^ standing at the top of that staircase,
Jimmy Edwards with his curling ends of hair. And it
was sixty years since the messenger of the gods had been
in that room — and apparently a good many since any one
else had. The heavy doorway (with the sht in it for
Edwards's lady's love-letters), was jammed with mortar
and dust and cobwebs; indeed, such was its massive
strength and weight that even when unlocked it seemed
built to defy scores of raiding policemen.
There was the steep staircase up and down which the feet
of so many good sportsmen had passed. In the old room
itself a phantom painter had left his paint-pots. He had
put them even on the sacred mantelshelf itself. Perhaps
he, too, had seen the presence at the top of the stairs, and
had fled or ever he began to re-paint the ^^ painted mantel-
piece," that Mr. Pickemell still sees in waking dreams.
Mr. Bunce is never tired of reciting his hero's deeds.
The tragedy of Edwards is like a Greek play with Mr. Miles
as the adn^dring chorus. But, imlike the Greeks, he makes
the hero die on the stage. The chorus never knew the
Earywig whose grave he tends so lovingly, but he has done
a little in Edwards's line himself, and can speak as one
having authority, and can sympathize to the full with the
166 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
middle-weight ehampion's occasional differences with
magistrates and policemen (in other counties, be it said,
for Edwards, unlike Gordon, was a prophet in his own
country). Mr. Miles was once the possessor of Edwards's
famous bird's-eye handkerchief which the Earywig
wore round his waist when professionally engaged, and
disposed gracefully across his knees when he had his best
clothes on. It appears in at least two portraits of the
middle-weight champion, and people of the last generation
used to say of a peculiarly gay handkerchief '^ The Eary-
wig would like this."
Mr. Miles put Edwards's handkerchief to baser uses —
and ware it out to his present lasting regret. He was not
a local man, and by the time he had learnt to worship
Jem's memory the handkerchief was no more.
The late Mr. Holland of Prestbury knew Edwards well,
and saw many of his fights. He could never find a
portrait of Jem which really did him justice. He said he
should have been taken quite side-face to show his profile,
which was his strong point.
A writer of a quarter of a century ago says of the Eary-
wig, that *^ he was never beaten on his merits, and his
aquiline nose always presented an unbroken bridge, for
none of his antagonists were ever allowed to hit it. (All
the same it looks broken in Jem's later portrait.) Like
Rob Roy (and Gordon himself) ^^ he could touch his
garters without stooping; and he was consequently too
long in the reach to be tapped in a coimter. The nom-de-
guerre of Edwards was ^* Earjrwig." This was, peiiiaps,
a rendering of Hairy Wig, for his Roman nob was covered
with thick curly hair, which gave a finishing touch to his
general Antinous-hke conformation."
Tom Sayers, who trained for some of his earlier fights
near Cheltenham, said of Edwards, that '^ he was the best
man that ever stepped into a ring ! " The two champions
never met in real combat. *^ They often had a set-to
with gloves, when, as a matter of course, they played light.
Is." 5
B
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THE KNOCK OUT OF EDWARDS 167
It has been said, and with much semblance of truth, that
Sayers, with all his superiority of weight, could not have
beaten Gordon's pugilistic preceptor; certainly Tom was
not desirous to try."
But all this is a far cry from the old room where the
photograph is being exposed, and the old sailor and soldier
are fighting Edwards's battles over again.
^^ Arms and the Man/' they sang as the sad old room,
thick with memories and dust and cobwebs, played on
their very heartstrings. And at the last they told how
Jem was sent to prison for fourteen days owing to a differ*
ence of opinion with the magistrates "" down in Nottingham-
shire," as to whether or not glov^ were a necessary part of
Edwards's professional equipment in that coimty.
In Gloucestershire, among friends, such ceremony was
not required, the local magistrates were prepared to see all
the fun and be blind when it was convenient. Often they
would give the wink which a blind horse feels in his bones
and which meant a traitor in the camp, and as if with the
wave of a magician's wand a prize fight became a respect-
able Queensberry Club sort of affair. Anyhow, the un-
appreciativeNottinghamshire magistrates caused Edwards's
death. He caught a chill in prison and went into a
galloping consumption, which, according to the old soldier
and sailor, killed him within a fortnight of his release. If
there is no mistake here Jem's last fortnight upon earth
must indeed have been a crowded hour of glorious life.
For in it he took part in an election riot, and tore off
Colonel Berkeley's coat-tails. This was the last flicker in
the socket. '* Let me see this wonderful man," said a
Gloucester magistrate. (No sportsman surely, or he would
have seen the local idol before it was so shattered.) And
Jem was wrapped in a blanket and carried into court. " Of
course nothing was done to him," said Mr. Miles. During
Edwards's brief illness he was seen about the town in a
bath-chair, sadly altered from his pristine beauty. " The
strongest of us has some weak spot," remarked the photo-
168 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
grapher, as he stood by his camera, watch in hand. Jem
said in his last moments that he had fought many fights,
but the last great fight with Death was the hardest one of
all. Only the Angel who wrestled with Jacob until the
day dawned prevailed against the middle-weight champion
of England. He died at thirty-six, and they carried him
over the way to the old cemetery. There he lies in company
with Thomas Haynes Bayly,^ and the ** rank and fashion
of the town/' as Mrs. Haynes Bayly would have said.
Edwards's memory is as green as his grave in the Lower
High Street.
They put up a monument at the public expense to ^^ One
of the best conducted men of his class." And on the
stone they graved the appropriate words "" He that
overcometh shall inherit all things." And Mr. Miles is
going to scrape out the letters when the summer comes so
that the Earywig's admirers will not have to emulate the
Manchester journalist.
The railway has taken part of the old cemetery, and part
has been made into a children's playground. It was all
very well for Gk>rdon to talk about " the sturdy station
children pulling bush-flowers on his grave," and how *^ he
might chance to hear them romping overhead." These
things sound very well in print, but what would Haynes
Bayly's devoted Helena say if she knew that her poet
shared God's acre with the railway and a public play-
ground, and was happy in that his ashes had not been
moved altogether.
^ Author of '* The Mistletoe Bough " and the lines —
" Ahsenoe makes the heart grow fonder;
Isle of Beauty, fare thee well."
^11
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CHAPTER XI
ANOTHER BOXING CHAPTER-" SUCH AS JEM EARYWIG
CAN WELL IMPART »»
" No game was eyer yet worth a rap
For a rational man to play
Into which no aooident» no mishap.
Could possibly find its way.'*
A, L, Chrdon in *'In Utramqna Paratus.**
Onb of Gordon's earliest surviving rhymes is a free
translation of these words —
'* Ingennas didioisse fideliter artes
Emolllt mores, neo sinit esse feros."
which Lindsay rendered into this —
*'To rightly learn the pugilistic art,
Such as Jem Earywig can well impart.
Refines the manners and takes off the rough
Nor suffers one to be a blooming muffJ*
Jem's lessons in boxing nearly came in usefully in
Gordon's career as a mounted policeman (if the famous
episode in ** Wolf and Hound " is really autobiographical).
** Bang I and my pistol arm fell broke
/ hit with my left hand (hen —
Hit at a corpse through a cloud of smoke,
For Pd shot him dead in his den I **
says Gordon in his realistic account of his capture of a
noted bushranger for which he is said to have received the
Government reward of £500. His victim's name is said
to have been Marshall.
^^ The boxing-boom was upon Gordon when he wrote
^ ffippodromania/ for in it describing the feelings of a
winning jockey as he rides back amid the shouts of the
crowd he speaks of his own feelings after a bout with naked
169
170 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
knuckles." A writer in an old Sporting Chronicle tells how
Jem's other pupil, Giordon's friend, put the Earywig's
precepts into practice.
** The funniest experience Mr. Pickernell ^ ever had was
in France. He had a dispute with the Due de Gramont
as to what constituted a gentleman, and, in true French
fashion, the Due thought the point could only be decided
by a duel either with rapiers or pistols.
*'Mr. Pickernell apparently had other views on the
matter, but it was an affair of honour, and the man who
could fracture his skull and re-appear smiling as soon as
the doctors would permit him to get into the saddle again
was not likely to be scared by a peppery French aristocrat.
Early one morning the parties met in a lonely wood, and
Mr. Pickernell won the toss for weapons. When he saw
the * louis ' drop in his favour, Mr. Thomas astonished the
Due by squaring up to him in the orthodox English fashion,
and while the Frenchman was volubly protesting that he
did not understand boxing, the English rider sent him to
mother earth with a lovely straight drive. That was
sufficient for His Grace, who promptly decided that Mr.
Pickemell's conception of a gentleman was the correct
one, and the two became really good friends afterwards."
But he called out Mr. Dillon, the editor of the Parisian
Sport for telling the story in print, and shot him through
the heart, with Mr. Pickernell acting as his second.
Mr. Pickernell is quite ready to this day to demonstrate
the defects of Gordon's method of boxing. Whatever he
has forgotten about him he remembers all about that.
Jem Edwards started out in life as " boy " in a public-
house in Pittville Street. His master, an old prize-fighter,
scolded Jem and riled him so much that the lad went for
the landlord and gave him such a dressing down that
Burge's father (did they say ?) and other experts deter-
mined to give this infant prodigy his chance in life. Jem
no longer blushed unseen, but was trained — ^and blossomed
^ The '' Mr. Thomas " of Grand National fame.
*JEM EARYWIG' 171
out into the unbeaten middle-weight champion of
England.
*^ He had/' said Mr. Holland, ^' a left-handed sort of way
of fighting which was most disconcerting to his opponents."
But perhaps his greatest asset was his unquenchable spirit.
** He never knew when he was beaten, and so he never
was."
One of Jem's most famous local fights was against a
worthy named ^* Topper Brown." Two acquaintances
met Jem in Red Lion Passage (like the Minotaur, Jem
dwelt in tortuous alleys and passages), and one of them said
by way of encouragement, " You've got to meet a younger
man than yourself to-night Jem, don't be over-confident."
*^ No man can beat me," said the prize-fighter solemnly,
and no man ever did.
Tom Oliver and all Prestbury turned out by train one
day to see one of Edwards's fights in London. They were
nothing if not hero-worshippers, these Prestbury folks,
in the brave days of old. They used to light bonfires on
Cleeve Hill when Stevens won the Grand National, and
they attended all the Earywig's fights without regard to
time or space.
When the happy family got to London they all went
to see the fight, engine-driver and all. It was somewhere
Vauxhall way, and they came back as usual flushed with
victory, and were all in the train ready to start Prestbury-
wards, when lo I the train would not move. " Men
came and looked in at the windows as if they wondered
what school was in here ; " there was a horrible pause, and
even Tom Oliver must have lost his usual spirits. They
had had a tiring day and seemed unlikely to reach their
homes. Then word went round that the engine-driver
had lost his watch at the fight and refused to start until
he had found it. He had the measure of his passengers
apparently, and said darkly, '^ that he knew it was in that
train."
Finally they found the thief and compelled him to
172 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
disgorge his prey. The engine-driver was appeased, and
they all went back to Cheltenham.
William Archer was a constant attendant at the Roebuck,
and Gordon must often have met him there as well as at
Prestbury.
At one period in Jem's career Grcorge Stevens and a
sporting doctor used to find most of the money for his
fights. Once his friends kept him hidden away on the
banks of the Severn wiien a warrant was issued for his
arrest for a breach of the peace. It is said that ^^ Lindsay
Gordon's fondness for riding and a desire to be conspicuous
got him into serious disrepute with the College magnates,
and caused great anxiety to his retiring and ^ methodical '
parents, but that the last straw broke the camel's back in
the form of fisticuffs. . . . The fame which followed these
deeds of the brave and blows of the strong proved his
bane." Evidently his parents removed him from the
College which he had re-entered after a three years' career
at Woolwich. There, also, according to all accoimts, he had
acquired a considerable reputation as a smart and fearless
boxer.
" Lindsay Gordon, like Lord Byron, whose mannerisms
this Cheltenham Collegian imitated, was addicted to the
noble art of pimching heads. He was certainly well
adapted for this pastime. There can be little doubt about
his having been able at seventeen years of age to thrash
his Byronic Lordship in his best day.
'Tve somethiiig of the bull-dog in my breed.
The spaniel is developed rather less,
While tile is in me I can fight and bleed
But never the ohastiBing hand caress."
wrote Gordon in his Cheltenham days.
He was a most determined antagonist, both with and
without the gloves, being tall and strong for his age,
and exceptionally expert in administering punishment, and
a very glutton in taking it. Few trained pugilists cared
to enter the mimic lists with him, for he never would
consent to play light, and it did not conduce either to their
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'JEM EARYWIG' 178
comf oitor character to submit to his experimental hammer-
ing. ^* For, even if they could have returned his favours
in kind, it was not, according to professional etiquette,
permissible to do so.''
Being near-sighted and devoid of the instinct of self-
preservation, Gordon always insisted on getting close to
his man ; and as his blows were perfect pile-drivers he was
a very awkward customer to deal with. '^ Gordon never
condescended to guard or evade a blow, but stopped every
one by some portion of his person — ^his head especially."
There is, perhaps, an allusion to some of Jem Edwards's
lectures in this little sermon of Gordon's— one of the many
moral discourses sprinkled about his poems.
" Keep your powder dxy, and shut one eye^
Not both, when you touch your trigger;
DonH stop vnlh your head too frequently
This advice ain't meant for a nigger.
Look before you leap if you like, but if
You mean leaping, donH look long
Or the weakest place will soon grow stiff.
And the strongest doubly strong;
As far as you can, to every man.
Let your aid be freely given
And hit out straight, *tis your shortest plan
When against the ropes you are driven/*
By the way Lindsay Gordon thought that St. Paul was
an athlete of sporting tastes-^very different from the small
weak man of Church tradition.
He tells the Pharisaical Preacher Ephraim —
** You had seemed more like a martyr
Than you seemed to us,
To the beasts that caught a Tartar
Once at Ephesus;
Rather than the stout apostle
Of the Gentiles who.
Pagan-like would cuff and wrestle,
They'd have chosen you."
Truly, St. Paul was all things to all men.
Through Mr. George Reeves, jimior, '^that talentful
174 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
preceptor and sportsman, Crordon got acquainted with . .
Tom Oliver. Thus he made the acquaintance of the
redoubtable Tom Sayers, the future champion of England,
then training for one of his earlier fights under Tom Oliver's
care, and the patronage of Mr. George Reeves, who was,
at this time, a power in the sporting world. . . • Young
Gordon, who was tall and well-knit, used to exercise Sayers
with the gloves, and soon became more than a mere
chopping-block. He also had the advantage of setting
to with Jem Edwards . . . acknowledged to be the most
scientific pugilist that ever stepped into a ring. With
such maUreS'd^ armes to instruct him, the apt pupil soon
began to operate on occasional antagonists, and gave
such severe lectures on heads as caused him to be regarded
with respect as a delineator of the science of hitting,
stopping, jobbing and getting away safe. • • . He de-
livered his blows straight from the shoulder like veritable
pile-drivers." This last extract is from the writings of
the late Mr. Frederick Marshall.
Gordon mentions Tom Sayers in ** Hippodromania " —
" There's the Barb, you may talk of your flyers and stayers.
All bosh, when he strips you oan see his eye range
Round his riyals with much the same look as Tom Sayers
Onoe wore when he faoed the big novice Bill Bainge.**
Bainge's two fights with Tom Sayers took place after
Gordon had left England, but he may have seai them
sparring out at Tom Oliver's. He speaks as if he had
done so, and the Barb's expression reminded him of
Sayers's.
PwU or Bill (Benjamin Bainge) was a Chepstow man, who
afterwards became land agent to a Captain Carruthers,
who had backed him to get into the eleventh round in
his second fight with Sayers. He did so, and Bainge's
patron remarked, *' You can knock off now, Bill, I have
won my money."
Mr. A. Page remembers the Earjrwig, he thinks, as well
as any one now living. He thinks he must have seen
*JEM EARYWIG* 175
Gk>rdon9 &nd might remember him if he saw a picture of
him. There were two or three boys that used to come down
to Edwards^s with Tom Pickemell. Edwards was backed
by a man named Langham, who kept what is now the
Nelson Arms in Lower High Street. Whenever Jem was
short of money he went to Langham, who was a Con-
servative, and so, therefore, was Edwards, though most of
the people who lived in that part of the town were Liberals.
Edwards's best known-fight (locally at any rate) was
with Topper Brown, who, Jem said, was the best man he
ever met. Langham said if Jem beat him he would give
him a public-house, and so he did, in Rutland Street.
Jem kept some carrier-pigeons in a loft above the room
at the Roebuck, and he took them to his various fights,
and after the victory he loosed the pigeons and they went
home with the news. They always had long streamers
of blue ribbon tied on to them. Edwards was a very
straight sort of man — a very quiet chap. If there was a
row in his home, instead of turning out the disturbers of
his peace he generally slipped out himself. He hated
noise and quarrelling. I remember when I was about
nine years old and was working in a market garden down
near here I met Jem, who had been out shooting. He
never liked to go home with his gun loaded. He said,
*' Do you want to earn a penny, little boy ? " I said,
" Yes/' and he said, " Well, fetch me a feather off that
bird." There was a sparrow sitting up in a tree and he
pointed his gun at him and blew him all to pieces — ^there
wasn't a sign of a feather left. Edwards was a splendid
shot. I was disappointed at not getting that penny. I
remember that day, the Earywig had on white duck
trousers, a black velvet coat and a seal-skin cap. He
was as pretty a man as ever I saw. He had curling hair,
black as a sloe, and he wore it rather long. A wonderful
fighter, very long in the reach, he was never beaten,
though one man once gave him a pretty considerable
dressing-down. They were sparring in a small room,
176 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
though^ and Edwards always wanted plenty of space.
Edwards was the Light- Weight Champion, but he chal-
lenged the Middle-Weight Champion. He came and he
looked round the room and said, ^^ Where is the man I
am to fight ? " and when he was shown Edwards, he said,
" What — ^that boy ? " That hoy was a bit too much for
him, though. Edwards had had to put on weight for this
fight, and the Middle- Weight to train down.
CHAPTER XIII
GORDON IN THE COTSWOLDS
" I remember the lowering wintry mom.
And the mist on the Gotswold Hills
Where I once heard the blast of the huntsman's hom»
Not far from the seven rills.
Jack Esdaile was there, and Hngh St. Gair,
Bob Chapman and Andrew Kerr,
And Big George Griffiths on Devil-May-CSare,
And black Tom Oliver.
And one who rode on a dark-brown steed
Clean jointed, sinewy, spare.
With the lean game head of the Blaoklock breed.
And the resolute eye that loyee the lead.
And the quarters massive and square —
A tower of strength with a promise of speed
(There was Celtic blood in the pair)."
A. L, Gordon in ** By Flood and Field."
The mist on the Cotswold Hills is raising itself gradually,
and one by one the figures of Gordon's old friends are
emerging from it. These men mentioned in the poem were
most likely all real people whom Gordon knew and liked.
He lingers on Tom Oliver's name as if he loved him best
of all. Oliver seems to have been a very human sort of
being with a good many failings and a lot of virtues. That
Gordon liked to talk about him is certain, and now one
could fill a book with the Prestbury people's tales of Tom
Oliver — ^and every one else's tales as well. Just in Lind-
say's Cheltenham time he was a particular hero, for had he
not twice won the Grand National already, and he won it
a third time the year Gordon went abroad. That is a very
charming picture of Oliver now in the Stork Hotel at
Birmingham, and once in the old coaching inn, the Hen
^ In these six chapters BaiUf^s Magaasine has been constantly consulted.
N 177
178 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
and Chickens. The ** brilliant and debonair steeplechase
rider leans down from Birmingham's back with his engaging
smile, and man and horse seem both alive " — ^as imperish-
able as Tom Oliver's memory.
"Here's a health to every sportsmtaaXf be he stableman or lord.
If his heart be true I oare not what his pocket may afford;
And may he ever pleasantly each gallant sport pursue
If he takes his liquor fairly, and his fences fairly too.
He cares not for the troubles of Fortune's fickle tide.
Who like Bendigo can battle and like Oliver can ride.
He laughs at those who caution, at those who chide he'll frown,
As he clears a five-foot paling or he knocks a peeler down."
Does not the wise king say that a merry heart is a con-
tinual feast ? — ^and Oliver's gaiety enlivens his old village
still. Those who never heard of *' Flood and Field " call him
Black Tom Oliver — ^with the same lingering affection.
He was fond of poetry^ too, and pleased when the tall
College boy recited his heroic ballads at Prestbury long
years ago. ** I set Tom Oliver going across country "
(says the celebrated Tommy Coleman in his RecoUedifms)^
" he lived with Tyrwhitt Jones. I put him up on a mare
and said» ^ Let me see you take her over those three fields
straight. I don't see why you shouldn't ride steeplechases.'
She was a bay mare and a middling fencer. The Prince
Consort admired her very much." C. Boyce, the only Blue-
Coat boy that ever became a steeplechase jockey, lived
^ith Tom Oliver for some time and was an excellent com-
panion, having learnt from him the^knack of telling an
anecdote. But there were several more of them near the
Seven Springs that morning. Even on a day like that
there is something in the air up there that gets into one's
head. There we say Father Thames sets out to see the
world, but Lechlade, and the new geography books, say
** No." It was a case of more than ** Flood and Field "
up here long ages ago if the geologists know cmything.
Noah's flood or one of that ilk washed over Leckhamp-
ton and the surrounding hills, and left shells and all manner
of weird sea things fossilized up there.
GORDON IN THE COTSWOLDS ird
Near here the bee orchid raises its brown and gold
velvet head. The lily of the valley is in the woods be-
yond— and here we have wild guelder-rose berries cmd
meadow sa£fron flowers, each in his season, cmd primroses
and cowslips and all those flowers that Australia cannot
grow. And so Gordon took up with wattle instead. It is
rather queer to hear Gordon's fellow townspeople calling
wattle " mimosa " as they buy bunches of it on the
Promenade, and saying ^' It's a pity the scent is so over-
powering."
Well, Gordon and the rest were all up near the Seven
Springs and at a time of year when flowers are not out in
j^gland at any rate. '^ Small Hopes '' thought Gordon
used a good deal of poetic license in describing this day's
happenings.
** This," he says, ^^ is a rather hyperbolical account of a
fox hunt on the Cotswold Hills." Gordon, it must be
told, had very little experience with foxhounds, for he
left England before he had reached maturity. He could
not afford good mounts, cmd he seldom borrowed or hired
a hunter on which he could see and learn the noble sport
properly. Tom Oliver, the trainer and steeplechaser, used
to put him up now cmd then; either on a rough young
horse, to educate him by a short lesson with hounds or
on a valuable steeplechase horse to ^^ qualify."
The man who rode at the impossible jumps afterwards '
rode in that impossible ride at Balaclava. Hitherto the
mists on the Cotswold Hills have obscured his name, yet
slowly they are rising.
'* I remember the laugh that all the while
On his quiet features played: —
So he rode to his death with that careless smile
In the van of the Light Brigade;
So stricken by Russian grape the cheer
Rang out while he toppled back,
From the shattered lungs as merry and clear
As it did when he roused the pack."
^* Small Hopes " says, in the Sporting and Dramatic^
N2
180 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
'' ^ By Flood and Field * is a leminisoence of the Cotswold
Hills,'* whereiQ Lindsay had ^^ entered '* to hounds. I
need not quote the verses to those who have the book.
He speaks of Bob Chapman, who was then, as now,
always to the fore ; big George GrifiBiths, who does duty
for his deceased brother, Ned GrifiBths ; the one evidently
meant, Ned Griffiths the mellifluous, the silver-tongued
(I speak, as Artemus Ward remarks, sarcastic), who rode
a horse yclept Boxkeeper, a steed which took a great deal
of beating (dubbed by Gordon Devil-May-Care, for the
sake of the rhyme), and Black Tom Oliver. I well remem-
ber these three and what good men they were to hounds.
The latter was Lindsay's preceptor, and all middle-aged
sportsmen know that there never existed a more scientific
and capable all-round rider than Tom Oliver, the d^bonnair.
The locale is a slope of the Cotswold Hills, and here again,
for the exigencies of verse, a country is described which
does not exist. In no part of the Cotswold can I recall (a
place ?) where a fox found on the hillside would go for the
vale. Still less can I remember any Cotswold horseman
talking like this —
" Solid and tail is the rasping wall
Which sttetohes before us yonder:
We mu^ have it ai spud or not at all
^Twere better to halt than to ponder."
Now I have had great experience at wall-jumping on
the Cotswolds, and I quite agree with the Due de Chartres,
who got an Lnperial Crowner through riding fast at a
five-footer, " that to jump ze wall in ze fly," as he observed
while thrusting his hand into his hat, which resembled a
concertina, ^' is not ze proper way." (It was not his
fault, he explained, his horse was a vale hunter, and took
^^ ze bit in his teeth.") Apart from the solecism in matters
of wall-jumping, I have to add that in no portion of the
Cotswolds will you find a high wall where —
" A stream runs wide on the take-off side,
And washes the clay bank under."
GORDON IN THE COTSWOLDS 181
Nor would there be marshy ground to splash through as
you approach it, out of which it would be literally impossible
for a horse to leap ^^ with a stag-like bound." Lindsay was
romancing a bit, playing to the desire of his Australian
audience.
Lieut.-Colonel J. Watkins Yardley does not agree with
this opinion. He says, ^^ the best run I can recall with the
Cotswold was with a hill fox that took to the vale." Mr.
Holman also says that Gordon was right, and that hill
foxes often take to the vale. Again, more modem sports-
men disagree with Fred Marshall. Colonel Yardley says,
** There are several streams on the take*off sides of walls
in the Cotswold country. Mr. Holman says, ^^ There are
still places like the one described here, near the Seven
Springs. The groimd gets very swampy as the source of
the Thames widens out to a stream, and there are stone
walk up there."
The account of this man's death almost exactly corre-
sponds with the published accoimts of Captain Nolan's
death. The *^ shattered lungs," the extraordinary cry
which seemed like the voice of an already dead man, ^^ the
van of the Light Brigade " — (Nolcm was the first man
killed) all are true to history.
Gordon evidently inclined to the idea that Nolan rode
across before the advancing cavalry to cheer them on,
though most writers think that he was trying to divert
the Light Brigade into a less dangerous course by the side
of the " Valley of Death."
Nolan was Lish ; so was the hero of this poem.
c<
And one who rode on a dark-brown steed,
dean-jointed, sinewy, spare,
With the lean, game head of the Blacklock breed,
And the resolute eye that loves the lead,
There was Celtic blood in the pair."
Gordon himself comes into the poem, out without leave,
as usual —
182 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
*' And between the pair ^ on a ohestnut mare.
The duffer who writes this lay»
What business had 'this child ' there to ride ?
But little or none at all;
Yet I held my own for a while 'in the pride
That goeth before a fall.*
Though rashness can hope for but one result.
We are heedless when fate draws nigh us.
And the maxim holds good ' Qium perdere vuU
Deu8 dementai pniia.*
The right-hand man to the left-hand said.
As down in the vale we went,
' Harden your heart as a millstone, Ned,
And set your face as a flint.
Solid and tall is the rasping wall
That stretches before us yonder;
You must have it at speed or not at all,
'Twere better to halt than to ponder.
For the stream runs wide on the take-off side,
And washes the clay bank under;
Here goes for a pull, *tis a madman^i ride.
And a broken neck if you blunder.'
No word in reply his comrade spoke.
Nor waver'd nor once looked round.
But I saw him shorten his horse's stride
As we splash'd through the maishy ground.
*****
I remember one thrust he gave to his hat.
And two to the flanks of the brown.
And still as a statue of old he sat.
And he shot to the front, hands down;
I remember the start and the stag-like bound
Of the steed six lengths to the fore.
And the laugh of the rider while, landing sound.
He turned in his saddle and glanced around;
I remember — ^but little more,
Save a bird's-eye gleam of the dashing stream,
A jarring thud on the wall,
A shock and the blank of a night-mare's dream,
I was down with a stimning fall."
Thus (says H. A. L.» the old Shekarry, the late Major
Leveson, in Baily*s MagasAne^ three months before Gor-
don's death) in " Ye Weary Wayfarer by Flood and Field," a
run with the Cotswold in which the author came to grief is
^ Captain Nolan and another.
GORDON IN THE COTSWOLDS 188
vividly described. . . . Major Leveson here reviews " Sea
Spray and Smoke Drift," which, he says, is " the unpre-
tending title of some very spirited and charming poems
written by one of the best and boldest riders that this
cotmtry ever produced and Australia matured.
*^ Twenty years ago the name of Lindsay Gordon was
well known in the Cotswold district as one who rode
straight and craned not; but, as the old country is not
big enough to hold us all, he and many more of her stalwart
sons — good men and true — ^prompted by love of adventure,
made their way to the Antipodes (in the piping days of
the great gold rush), and there helped to found Britain's
second empire, that sturdy, off -shoot which, pray God, no
demented statesman may ever sever from the parent
stock.
'' The innate pluck and manly bearing which carried him
along in the van across coimtry served him well during an
uphill career, in a new land as he forged ahead in the himt,
so he took the lead and kept it amongst men of no common
order. His sterling qualities gained him the good-will of
all classes."
Three months after Major Leveson had written that
review, Gordon had died by his own rash hand.
But this is all by the way. In Baily^s Magazine for
February 1870, Gordon's poem about the "Melbourne
Cup " is quoted : " The Melbourne Cup of 1867, won by
Tim Whiffler, which * stands perfectly imique as a specimen
of what racing poetry should be. No poet has drawn a
poem more true to nature.' Two verses of this poem refer
to Gordon's favourite topic '*The Charge of the Light
Brigade.'
9 99
c<
Did they quail, those Bteeds of the squadrons light.
Did they flinch from the battle's roar.
When they burst on the guns of the Muscovite,
By the echoing Black Sea's shore 7
On ! on 1 to the cannon's mouth they stride.
With never a swerve or shy;
Oh, the minutes of yonder maddening ride
Long years of pleasure outvie !
184 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
No slave, but a oomiade staunoh in this,
Is the hoise, for he takes his shaie.
Not in peril alone, but in feverish bliss^
And in longing to do and dare.
Where bullets whistle and round shots whiz.
Hoofs trample and blades flash bare,
Ood send me an ending as fair a$ his
Who died in hie stirrups there/**
Then comes a note, *^ Louis Nolan is here alluded to.'*
Lord Tredegar has been trying to recall the Christian
names of his old comrades who fell in the Charge of the
Light Brigade, but cannot recollect one called '^ Ned," who
was a ^^ sporting contemporary of Tom Oliver and Bob
Chapman." He says that Captain Nolan, whose second
name was Edward, may have been called ^^ Ned " in his regi-
ment, and that some old resident in the neighbourhood may
know if he was among the riders to hounds here at that time.
Wigom writes — " I have again read the * Legend of the
Cotswold,* and think it possible the late Captain Nolan is
therein referred to, but more I cannot say. I notice, too,
in the legend referred to, George GrifBith is mentioned, not
Edward (Ned). This, I should say, may be a mistake by
Gordon in the names, for, if my recollection is correct,
Mr. George Griffiths was a barrister and very short-sighted,
in fact, not at all likely to have ridden to hounds at any
time ; but as to this, some of your friends at Cheltenham
will know best."
Mr. H.' O. Lord, the Cotswold M.F.H., remembers
hearing that Captain Nolan's mother lived in Cheltenham
in Gordon's time ; and a ^' Mr. Nolan's " name occurs
among the " Arrivals " to 12, St. George's Parade, given
in an old Cheltenham journal.
Mrs. Nolan was then a widow, and Louis was one of three
s(His, all of whom were killed in battle. Therefore, if his
mother lived in Cheltenham, the town was probably
Captain Nolcm's headquarters when in England. He was
a very well-known rider, and would be likely to have hunted
with the Cotswold (then the Berkeley) hounds when he
stayed in t\^e town. Captain Nolan wrote several books
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GORDON IN THE COTSfWOLDS 185
about cavalry cmd horsemanship, and won some of the
stiffest steeplechases that ever took place in Madras."
In Gordon's ^^ Roll of the Kettlednim " is what seems a
reminiscence of Nolan's death.
" One was there leading by nearly a rood.
Though we were racing he kept to the fore.
Still as a rock in his stirraps he stood.
High in the sunlight his sabre he bore.
Suddenly tottering, backwards he orash'd.
Loudly his helm right in front of us rung;
Iron hoofs thundered and naked steel flashed
Over him — ^youngest when many were young — *■
When Lord Cardigan came out of the Valley of Death
grmnbling because Nolan had *^ cheeked " him — ^he was
told that he had better say no more, as he had probably
just ridden over Nolan's dead body.
Gordon had very little imagination : he wrote ^^ that he
did know and testified that he had seen." From these
references to Nolan it would appear that he not only knew
his hero intimately, but actually was with him when he
jumped over the wall and the rest.
Last, but not least, he mentions Nolan by name in ** Ye
Wearie Wayfarer," Fytte VII.
" Vain dreams, again and again re-told.
Must you crowd on the weary brain,
!nil the fingers are cold that entwined of old
Bound foil and trigger and rein.
Till stay'd for aye are the roving feet.
Till the restless hands are quiet.
Till the stubborn heart has forgotten to beat.
Till the hot blood has ceas'd to riot.
« « * « * «
But NolanU name will flourish in fame.
When our galloping days are past.
When we go to the place from whence we came.
Perchance to find rest at last.
« « « « « «
Though our future lot is a sable blot
Though the wise ones of earth toiU blame ns
Though our saddles will rot and our rides he forgot^
Dum Vivimus, Vivamus!"
186 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
^' The wise ones of earth '' did blame Nolan at least for
a tune. He was at first thought to be the ** some one ''
who " blundered."
His ride '^ in the van of the Light Brigade " is indeed
remembered, but his great jump up by the Seven Springs
would have been forgotten, but for the hero-worshipping
College boy who had no business there that day.
Even in his lifetime Nolan was looked on with some
suspicion as a crank ^^ who had written a book/* though he
died at thirty-four a recognized authority on cavalry move-
ments, and one who had written one or two standard works.
There was a great resemblance between these two
adventurous spirits — ^reckless riders both, and not always
too well appreciated by their contemporaries. Nolan's
death was the part of his life Grordon always envied him —
'* Oh, the minutes of yonder maddening ride
Long years of pleasure outvie ! **
Monsignor Nolan, of 21, Oxford Terrace, W., who was
asked if Captain Nolan was ever called Ned, says, ^' Some
years ago I met Woods Pasha, then an old man, who
recognized me, strange to say, by some likeness to Captain
Nolan. He spoke of him as ^ Ned.' "
Monsignor Nolan's letters prove that Nolan was called
*' Ned," also that members of this Irish family live and
have lived in Cheltenham and its neighbourhood for many
years. Indeed, they may be said to prove that Captain
Louis Edward Nolan was the real hero of Gordon's ^' Legend
of Cotswold."
Lieut. -Colonel J. W. Yardley says, " I think Nolan was
* Ned,' the hero of the * Legend of Cotswold,' or at any
rate that Gordon meant that character."
^^ Jack " Esdaile was the late Edward Jeffries Esdaile,
Esquire, of Cothelestone, Somerset, bom June 28, 1818,
married, September 27, 1887, Eliza lanthe, only daughter
of the late Percy Bysshe Shelley (the poet) by his first
wife, Harriette, second daughter of John Westbrook,
Esquire, of London (Burke's Landed Gentry).
GORDON IN THE COTSWOLDS 187
The late Dr. Ker of Cheltenham remarks, in his remi-
niscenceSy that a greater contrast could not exist than there
was between Shelley and his daughter lanthe, as Shelley
was, to say the least, an imbeliever, while Mrs. Esdaile
held strictly evangelical views. Mrs. Esdaile was in no
way remarkable, except as a good wife and mother. To
her in her infancy Shelley wrote the beautiful little sonnet
to lanthe, beginning —
" I love thee. Baby I for thine own sweet sake;
Those asuie eyes, that faintly dimpled cheek,
Thy tender frame, so eloquently weak.
Love in the sternest heart of lubte might wake;
But more when o'er thy fitful slumber bending
Thy mother folds thee to her wakeful heart,
Whilst love and pity, in her glances blending,
All that thy passive eyes can teU, impart."
Mr. Charles Edward Jeffries Esdaile (Jack Esdaile's and
lanthe's son) says of his father, " He was a very fine rider,
but gave it up from conscientious scruples about '52. He
succeeded to this property in 1866 and died in 1881. . . .
I cannot tell you more of his riding than what I have been
told. My father would hardly ever refer to his unregenerate
days, but occasionally the old Adam would peep out in
such a way as this : Pointing to some hurdles which were
the height of a deer park fence, once he said, ^ Would your
horse jump these ? * I replied that I should not dream
of asking him such a question. He remarked, ^ I had a
little horse once that would think nothing of them.' He
had wonderful hands and could ride horses that very few
would care to do. A famous jockey of those days who, I
think, hunted with the Duke, observed to one of the field
in a run in Somerset, ^no one could do that but Jack
Esdaile.' The feat referred to was nothing very unusual to
a Somerset man. It was, I am told, a qiuck descent of a
very sloping covert into a road."
Hugh St. Clair, according to Lord Coventry, was a well-
known name in Cheltenham at that time.
Bob Chapman, as a local sporting celebrity, runs Tom
188 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Oliver hard. Many are the tales that are told of his
romantic marriage, and of how King Edward VII used to
pay private visits when Prince of Wales, to Mr. Chapman's
house, the Oaklands. He (Mr. Chapman) hunted with the
Cotswold Hounds comparatively recently — ^at any rate,
compared with most of Gordon's other friends. Bob
Chapman's old stables (now Mr. Alfred Holman's) are an
ancient and picturesque landmark by the Prestbury race-
course. Apparently Mr. Robert Chapman used to laugh
at Gordon's many tumbles (he had one in the hunt de-
scribed here)—
" There's lots of refusing and falls and mishaps
Who's down on the Chestnut, he's hurt himself pr'aps
Oh 1 it's Lindsay the Lanky says hard riding Bob
He's luckily saved Mr. Calcraft a job/'
Robert Chapman was called ^^ the pink of dealers and
the pet of swells." There was a story of how the " swell
horse-dealer " (presumably Mr. Chapman) wrote to a
friend something as follows —
^^Dear Jim,
^^ Can you let me have £500 on account ? I can't
get any money out of the Swells ?
" Yours truly,
« Bob."
To which came the prompt answer —
''Dear Bob,
"' Put me down among the Swells.
" Yours truly,
" Jim."
His runaway marriage with Miss Hogg turned out very
happily.
Big George Griffiths on Devil-May-Care, says Mr.
Marshall, " ought to be ' big Ned Griffiths,' who, by the
by, never had a horse of the above name. ' Box Keeper '
was the horse indicated, but that did not make so good a
rhyme as the substitute ; Mr. George Griffiths, well known
as ' the blind barrister,' will bear me out,'!
GORDON IN THE COTSWOLDS 189
Gordon, however, was at school at least a year with
Edward Goodall Stewart Griffiths and George Sumner
Griffiths. They were the sons of Mr. Lewis Griffiths of
Marie Hill, and were big boys when little Lindsay first
went to college. They left in 1848. Lord James of
Hereford thinks ^' George Griffiths, as mentioned in * Flood
and Field,' is correct." A stout young gentleman of that
name, a son of Mr. Griffiths of Marie Hill, hunted with the
Cotswold hounds during the fifties. He became a barrister
on the Oxford Circuit. George and Ned Griffiths both rode
in little scratch steeplechases at Prestbury with Gordon,
and sparred with Jem Edwards.
One would think that Gordon would have known his
school-friend's Christian names, though nearly every one
who has been asked says Ned Griffiths is the one Gk>rdon,
meant. He was a better-known rider in steeplechases and
hunted much more than his brother. An old apprentice
of Oliver's, however, says that Gordon meant George*
There are legends of a great match on the Prestbury Park
race-course, when Ned rode against the Duke of Hamilton,
both on ponies. "Two big 'uns together." There is
another legend that one of these brothers shared with
Gordon the honour of '^besting the Earywig," Credat
Judceus ApeUa,
Andrew Kerr took part in the steeplechase when Gordon
beat the favourite.
"" Kerr made the running on Mermaid." He is said by
a New Zealand correspondent of the Sydney Lone Hand
to have been the father of Mr. Andrew Kerr of Great
Bedwyn Manor, Wiltshire. Mr. Russell Kerr says this
statement is incorrect, but he thinks Andrew Kerr of the
poems is, perhaps, a distant cousin.
There are other cousins named Andrew who were in
Australia at the same time as Gordon, and kept racehorses.
Gordon may have known some of them in England
CHAPTER XIII
THE SCENE OF « HOW WE BEAT THE FAVOURITE '
We deck them in cream and in crimson
In chocolate, tartan and blue;
We flag them a course over fences
And trust them to battle it through;
We come with the best of our sportsmen
And the fairest fair dames in the land
To speed them away from the barrier
And cheer them in front of the stand
BtU the riders, the eteepUchase riders
Qo out with their lives in their hand J ^*
Will Ogilvie in *' The Steeplechase Riders.''
It was at Prestbury Park some sixty years ago that a
College boy got off his horse after riding in the trials on
the race-course. " There now, you young devil, you^ve
rode a race^'* said the kindly trainer who had given him his
first mount. The boy was Lindsay Gordon, the trainer
*' Black " Tom Oliver.
Black Tom's words stuck somehow, as stray words will,
in the memory of an old Prestbury resident who was young
when he heard them. Thus is recorded the Poet's first
attempt at steeplechasing.
Most likely the delighted school-boy never forgot those
words either, and they pleased him more than all the
cheering at the Melbourne Hunt Club Meeting in 1868
when he won his triple Victory : the Hunt Club Cup on
Major Baker's Babbler^ the Metropolitan Handicap Steeple-
chase on his own horse Vikingy and the Selling Steeple-
chase on his own horse Cadger — ^these three on the same
day without a fall.
Indeed, by the time of that Melbourne Hunt Club Meeting,
190
*HOW WE BEAT THE FAVOURITE' Idl
it was said that ^^ these races were ridden with a recklessness
of danger that was simply intended to court death."
But this utter recklessness was always Gk>rdon's leading
characteristic, and Mr. Howlett Ross says in his Memoir
of the Poet that '^ Gordon loved the sport too well to seek
his death by it/'
Most of Lindsay's old friends in Cheltenham think that
" How we beat the Favourite *' is a mythical steeplechase.
But Mr. Stevens (George Stevens's son), was hard to
convince that this was a victory only by poet's license.
He stoutly maintained that '^ Gordon wrote the poem after
a real, and not an imaginary, steeplechase, and that it is
by far too realistic for even a poet to have written out of
his imagination," and Mr. Finch Mason, a great authority,
shares his opinion.
The late Fred Marshall thought it was a myth, and so
does the late Editor of the Cheltenham Examiner^ who
published some of (cordon's early poems, and remembers
the gay attire and doings of Gk>rdon in his latter days in
the Garden Town.^
Mr. Charles Jessop says that the two la Terri^res and
Gordon and the Grijfiths and Mr. Bamet (owner of Sir
Peter Laurie, the Holmans' great pride) used to get up
a sort of little scratch hunt steeplechases at Prestbury
Park, and he is almost sure that he remembers that Lindsay
won one with '^ that black horse," probably Lallah Rookh.
It is not recorded elsewhere that Gordon won any steeple-
chase at Prestbury Park.
The poem is most likely an account of a real steeplechase
which Lindsay saw when he was nearly fourteen, and would
have given his eyes to have won. After all, of all people
in the world, a poet need not be tied down to sober fact.
To harness the Pegasus of the Centaurs' Laureate were
hard indeed.
Maybe Gordon in Australia, heard remarks anent
Jackaroos on Buck Jumpers, and people who ^' rode like
^ Cheltenham.
192 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
English fox hunters/' and straightway determined that
no one in Australia should doubt that, whatever his
Antipodean victories, he had gone one better in the Old
Country. He was not going to have it believed that he
had learned to ride in the Sunny South. Like his Sergeant
Leigh who related his exploits '^ for the glory of God and
of Gwendoline '' Gordon, for the glory of Tom Oliver and of
Prestbury Park took out a poet's licence and imagined
such a steeplechase that it is the steeplechase of history —
the Cross Country Rider's Classic.
He selected the most difficult course he had ever seen.
The holder of the unbeaten record of five victories in the
Grand National was good enough to start Lindsay off on
his ride to victory with words of cheer which still ring
down the ages in Australasia.
And, with himself, Lindsay immortalized Lallah Rookh,
the heroine of most of his English racing adventures,
turning with a wave of his magician's wand the black
Louisa (late Lallah Rookh) into Bay Iseult.
The boy who won a hurdle race at Tewkesbury on Lallah
Rookh, and may have won a steeplechase over the walls
at Birdlip with the same mare, changed himself and his
mount by a poet's dream into the deathless hero on Bay
Iseult, who beat the Clown.^ The Clown, who "gave
Abd-el-Kader at Aintree nine pounds."
Once — and once only — the Cheltenham steeplechases were
held at Knoverton, and the Prestbury authorities agree
that the steeplechase won by the late Mr. WiUiam Holman
on Stanmore, at the 1847 Cheltenham Meeting, was the race
described in " How we beat the Favourite." Mr. Holland,
who lately died in Prestbury, remembered every detail of
this great event at Knoverton. Thus it can easily be
understood how it was imprinted on the memory of Lindsay,
who had seen comparatively few steeplechases. Li every
important detail the Knoverton course resembles the
^ By a ourious ooinddenoe (mentioned elsewhere) Sterens met his
death while riding a cob called the Clown.
Is
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'HOW WE BEAT THE FAVOURITE' 198
country described in, " How we beat the Favourite."
Prestbury Park race-course falls short of the poem by a
stone wall if by nothing else. There never was a stone
wall on the Prestbury Park race-course.
The Cheltenham steeplechases held at Knoverton in
1847 (and never there again, for the course was iax too
difficult for even the Prestbury men and horses) are
described in the old Cheltenham Journal. ^' This meeting
was unequalled in the annals of steeplechasing. The
selection of the ground was splendid. Gordon's ^^ How
we beat the Favourite " started in Perry Hill Field, near
Prestbury.
They went through the lane to Knoverton House, and
to the right of the latter over a stone wall into Mr. Turner's
orchard — over a stanked brook with gorse plants on the
taking-ofi side — ^through Mr. Gyngell's meadows to near
Hewlett's Hill. The turning flag was between Queen's
Wood and Cleeve.
The starting odds were 4 to 1 against Stanmore (W.
Holman), 8 to 1 on Carlo and the Tramp.
Holman on Stanmore won by a short length. ** Holman
was," says Mr. Finch Mason, ^' one of the most distinguished
cross-country riders of his day."
STARTERS
1. Mr. Smith's Stakmobs W. Holman.
2. „ Evan's Daddy Long Legs W. Archer.
3. „ Tait's Doctor Owner.
4. », SamuePs Amazon Ketton.
5. „ Wilmott's Warwick Boxall.
6. Captain Little's Liberty Jacobs.
7. Mr. Cornish's Tavistock Dalby.
S. „ Elliott's Oppressed Oliver.
9. „ Hutohinson's Snipe Bradley.
10. ,, P. W. Davidson's Very Bad .... B. M. Walker.
11.. „ Hall's Tramp Tomer.
Tramp went away with a lead of a length and a half.
Walker's mare dechned the first leap till all her companions
had gone over» and lost fifty yards. Every one topped the
o
194 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
stone wall, but at the brook Daddy Long Legs rose too soon
and dropped into it, and so did two others. Stanmore
here wrested the lead from Tramp with Snipe third. So
they rounded the flag at Hewlett's Hill, where one of
Oliver's stirrup leathers gave way» and he finished the race
without the use of it. (Another paper remarks that this
was a great achievement on such a course.) The Snipe
fell at the first fence returning home, Tavistock and
Liberty soon keeping her company. After crossing the
lane, Stanmore had a lead of two or three lengths. Holman
led them at a good pace to the second extreme flag near
Queen's Wood, and, as he came to the winning field, was
followed by Daddy Long Legs, who, going at a rattling
pace, had made up his lost ground wonderfully. At the
brook again Very Bad tumbled in. On nearing Hewlett's
Hill again, the Tramp joined Daddy Long Legs and went
up to Stanmore and ran with him through a field. Here
Tavistock fell. The orchard was then entered (a most
dangerous place from the thickly growing apple and pear
trees, of which two or three remain to this day), and, as
he was passing through. Tramp himg, and ran with his
head against a tree, inflicting such injuries as to cause his
death, and at the same time his rider was severely hurt.
Stanmore charged the stone wall into Knoverton lane three
lengths before Daddy Long Legs, and the two were bearing
too much to the right, but discovered their mistake in
time to prevent being caught up by the Doctor and
Carlo. Holman kept the lead over the remaining fences,
and after a sharp but very pretty contest was winner by a
length.
Lindsay Gordon actually rode in the Ba'keley Hunt
Cup steeplechase at the Cheltenham meeting at Prestbury
Park on March 25, 1852. By poet's licence he seems to
have made himself win this race, and made it take place
at Knoverton, where stone walls and a superfluity of apple
and pear trees added the extra spice of danger that his
soul loved.
*HOW WE BEAT THE FAVOURITE' 196
The steeplechase at Prestbury Park and the hurdleraee
at Tewkesbury are the only races recorded in which Gordon
rode. The steeplechase was ^^ of five sovereigns each, P. P.
with silver cup added." For horses that have been ^* fairly
hunted " with any pack of hounds, twice round the steeple-
chase course about three miles. Gentlemen Riders.
4 yeai olds, lOst. 71b. 5 year olds list. 6 years and
aged, list. 7lb. Winner of steeplechase, hurdle or flat
race, with twenty-five sovereigns or upwards, added, once
5lbs., twice 7lbs. extra.
1. Mr. T. Golby's b. g. Ploughboy, list. 7Ib. . . Mr. Holloway.
2. „ B. Land's br.h. General, list. 71b. . • . „ Linden.
3. », Kitton's oh. g. (h. b.)Iinkboy, list. 61b. . „ I. Ward.
4. „ G. F.Williams'B b. g. (h. b.) Conrad, list 71b. . A« Maiden.
5. „ Harvey's Libel, list Gapt. Mivers.
6. Lord Hopetoan's Cayenne, list. 71b Mr. Davis.
Bfr. Parker's bL m. (h. b.) Louiea {late LaUah Roohh) list Mr. Gordon.^
„ d'Aroy's b. m. (h. b.) Gninare, list. 71b. . . Sir L Malcolm.
„ Whiter br. g. Spectator, list. 71b Capt. Haworth.
„ W. la Terridre's ch. g. Coeur de Lion .... Owner.
Ploughboy took the lead and maintained it throughout,
winning in a canter ; with the exception of the General,
linkboy and Conrad everything in the race was beaten at
two miles, the old horse winning by seven lengths. A pretty
contest took place for second place; General beating
Linkboy by a head.
There is a very charming description of Prestbury Park
Race-course in the old Cheltenham Journal of Saturday,
April 9, 1858. It was written after the Cheltenham steeple-
chases of April 5 and 6, 1858. Gordon was most likely
present and rode Louisa, and if so it was the last meeting
he ever attended at Prestbury Park. His mare Louisa
ran in the Berkeley Hunt Cup ridden by a jockey whose
name is not given. She was disqualified because her rider
had not been weighed.
Cheltenham has for many years been a well-known
^ ''Mr. B<^ton" in the Steepleckase Calendar. '<Mr. Gordon'' in the
report in the Chelienham Examiner written by Fred Marshall and also in
the Chellenkam Joumai.
O 2
196 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
training centre, and such famous men as William Holman,
George Stevens, Tom Oliver and William Archer have been
connected with the town as trainers or jockeys. William
Holman was settled in Cheltenham and was training and
riding many winners about 1889. In 1841 he won two
steeplechases at Andoversford, and on Xeno rode a dead-
heat with Tom Oliver on Grayling at Cheltenham. In
1842, on Dragsman, he won the big race at Andoversford
run over walls ; and in 1848 the same race over a six-mile
course, on The Page, both his own horses. In the same
year he rode in his first Grand National; he never suc-
ceeded in riding the winner, though in 1852 he was third,
and in 1850 fourth on Sir Peter Laurie. He trained
Freetrader, the winner of 1856, in which year he also had
engaged Sir Peter Laurie. In 1870 he trained The Doctor,
when, with his second son George in the saddle, that horse
was beaten by a head by The Colonel.
Mr. Alfred Holman, son of Mr. W. Holman, the actual
winner of the steeplechase on which Gordon based ^^ How
we beat the Favourite " describes thus the course on which
Gordon rode in the Berkeley Hunt Steeplechase.
" The old steeplechase course in Prestbury Park in the
days of my father, W. Archer, Tom Oliver, G. Stevens,
Bob James, etc., used to be a natural coimtry, over natural
hedge and ditch fences, ridge and furrow, round the country
adjacent to the present course, and over a big natural
brook on to the course again, and a straight run in ; now
it is continued to the inner part of the park, all regulation
fences, stands, paddocks, etc., all beautifully built up
to date and compares favourably with any steeplechase
course in the Kingdom. It has one of the finest views of
scenery if not the best, of any course in England, from off
the elevated position having a beautiful and picturesque
view of the Cotswold Hills all round, with the woods and
fox-covers and newly-built houses dotted all the way up
Cleeve Hill, and the pretty village of Prestbury close by.
Of all sporting centres Cheltenham has a greater record,
Mx. A
.Li'RED Holman's (formbrlv Bob Cuapman's)
Trao
una Stables, A i.andmarkoftkk Prestburv
OURSE, UN WHICH GORUON RODB LALLAH
Ri)OKi
N IN THE Berkeley Hunt Steeplechase,
i85J.
Mr. W. IIolman was the real winner
B RACE DESCRIBED [N "HOW WE BBAT THE
Favourite."
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*HOW WE BEAT THE FAVOURITE' 197
as regards sporting celebrities, and its ancient steeplechase
meetings than any other in England, and I well remember
Tom Oliver (when he lived at his stables at Prestbury),
William Archer, when he kept the King's Arms Inn at
Prestbury, George Stevens, when he was in his zenith and
also when he met with his fatal accident, Tom Pickemell,
(whom my father used to train for), ^ Earywig ' (Jem
Edwards, the then Champion Light- Weight of England),
and hosts of others, and to finish I feel convinced the
course at Noverton, where my father won on Stanmore
and when Tramp (which he also trained) was killed, is
the one and only course that could answer to the descrip-
tion of the poem of Lindsay Gk>rdon, " How I Beat the
Favourite." If this brief memorandum is in any way
interesting to you, I shall be only too pleased and I have
no doubt I could tell you a lot more in connection with
sporting Cheltenham, but perhaps not in connection with
Lindsay Gk>rdon. I trust this will arrive safely, with my
best wishes for the success of your book.
Yours sincerely,
Alfred Holman."
Mr. Holman, who belongs to a family which have been
leading trainers in this part of the country for a long time,
had a great deal to do with the laying out of the present
steeplechase course at Cheltenham. Mr. Pickemell thinks
him second to none as a sporting authority and the
authority on this topography.
Mr. Alfred Holman's stables are an ancient landmark
by the race-course. They are just as they were in Gordon's
day, but then they belonged to the poet's friend, the
celebrated Bob Chapman. Though it is much altered the
race-course is practically the same as that on which Gordon
rode so many years before.
Then there was the Berkeley Hunt Steeplechase of
three sovereigns each, with twenty added, for horses that
have been fairly hunted with any established pack of
hounds this season.
»9
198 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
1. lir. W. Bamett'B Diaxa, IObI. 71b Owner.
2. ,, Thompson's Melon, list. 7Ib 0. Stevens,
3. Oapt. Horton Rhys's Toll Bar, list. 71b. . . Mr. Crymee.
Mr. Clarke* 8 Nimrod, list. Ablett.
T. Brown's Troy, list 51b Price.
C. Symond's Experiment, list Enreh.
T. Perrin'sPhcenix, Hat. English.
Giles's Trout, list. Giles.
Cooper's Hazard, list Owner.
B. Land's General, list. 71b. .... Green.
C. Croome's Land's Scamperdown, 1 Ist. 61b. Owner.
D. Kitton's linkboy, list Wood.
Hawkins's Topthom, 1 Ist. 7Ib Hawkins.
Oliver^ 8 Telegraph, list. 71b James,
Louisa {late Lallah Rookh), ran but improperlyy her jockey
not having been weighed.^
Mr. Cartwright's Thurgarton (Mr. F. Berkeley) won the
United Hunters' Stakes Handicap.
Tom Oliver was painted on Thurgarton, and there was
(if there is not now) a print of this pictiu*e in the Inn at
Andoversford, where Fred Archer was born.
1 In the 1853 Easter Steeplechases it seems very probable that Gordon
was Lallah Rookh's jockey who " had not been weighed,'^ and therefore
*' ran improperly," which Mr. Holman sa3r8 is rather an unnsual expres-
sion. Golonal Yardley does not think either of these escapades, the
Forfeit Job, the Easter Steeplechase or the Worcester horse-stealing, are
necessarily at all serious, and says it was very sporting of Qozdon to
get the mare out of the stable.
P5
It
• •
:•
CHAPTER XIV
THE RACE DESCRIBED BY GORDON
"Aye, Squiie," said StevenSy ''they baok him at evens;
The race is all over, bar shouting, they say;
The Clown ought to beat her; Diok Neyille is sweeter
Than ever — ^he swears he can win all the way.
A gentleman-rider — ^well, I'm an outsider;
But if he's a gent, who the mischiefs a jock;
You Swells mostly blunder; Diok rides for the plunder,
He rides too like thunder — he sits like a rock.
He calls ' hunted fairly * a horse that has barely
Been stiippM for a trot within sight of the hounds;
A horse that at Warwick beat Birdlime and Yorick
And gave Adb-el-Kader at Aintree nine pounds.
They say we have no test to warrant a protest;
Dick rides for a Lord and stands in with a steward;
The light of their faces they show him — ^his case is
Pxejudged and lus verdict already secured.
But none can outlast her, and few travel faster;
She strides in her work dear away from the Drag;
You hold her and sit her; she couldn't be fitter
Whenever yon hit her she'll spring like a stag.
And p'riiaps the green jacket, at odds though they baok it;
May fall, or there's no knowing what may turn up;
The mare is quite ready, sit still and ride steady
Keep cool; and I think you may just win the cup."
With these words and **some parting injunction
bestowed with great unction/' Stevens started Gordon
ofi on this mythical steeplechase which has become
history. And still you can hear his words from Thursday
Island to the Leeuwin. What does it matter if Gordon
ever won the Knoverton Steeplechase, or the Berkeley
Hunt Cup, or any steeplechase across any English country?
199
200 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
While the world swings on its axis, these six verses are
George Stevens's Monument under the Southern Cross.
They were boys of nineteen then, these two of the great
riders of two hemispheres. Both sat at the feet of Tom
Oliver, who had already won two of his three grand
Nationals. These six verses are the only record of their
friendship — ^and quite enough too. But after Stevens's
death his son found one of Gordon's poems among his
father's papers.^
When one leaves Prestbury vUlage behind, the road
turns sharply round to Southam (where Stevens later met
his death). Keep straight on and it is Knoverton Lane.
Where these two ways part stood Tom Oliver's house,
once the Mecca of Gordon's earthly pilgrimctge. **The
Hill " of the poem rises there in front, as one walks up
Knoverton Lane. {Nuwerton as some of the older
people call it.) ** I could not live away from the
hills," said the old sportsman, who remembered the
Knoverton Steeplechase — as he looked at Cleeve, and
Gordon could not be happy away from them or live long
either.
And Gordon's home-sick spirit longing ever for **the
mists on the Cotswold Hills," has saddened all Australian
poetry. It is as much Heimweh for Cleeve Hill as any sad-
ness of the Bush that set Gordon and his school singing
in a minor key. At ** the base of the hill " the happier
Stevens met a death that would have suited Gordon well.
Poor lads, they little thought when they rode steeplechases
at Prestbury that the Angel of Death would meet Stevens
on the hill above, and that across the world Gordon would
run to meet that same angel long before either was forty
years old.
To the right of Knoverton Lane is Hewlett's Hill — to
the left is Queen's Wood on the lower slopes of Cleeve.
Stone walls are on either side oi the lane — the one on the
^ Stevens had his first mount on Mr. Vevers's Volatile at Slough
when he was seventeen.
Thb scbnb of "How Wb Beat t
(Knovkkton Lane.) Thestonrv
TRAP ANii Mermaid hefusel) is
ANb TUB PENCE WITH STOKE COPl.
• • •
■ • • •
••••••
• ■
• • • •
• •• •
• • • • •••
THE RACE DESCRIBED BY GORDON 201
left has a steep bank and a ditch below it. But Reginald
Murray (who seems to be an imaginary person) has started
them and Gordon and the rest have left Stevens in Perry
Hill-field, and are away through the fields towards
Knoverton. Gordon has tried to recall ^' Stevens's
parting injunction," but has forgotten "" it '' like a dunce
and is in ""the furrows that led to the first stake and
bound.'* There are springs in the bank below the house
where one can easily imagine the floods lingering from
last year. The old house itself, as has been said, is a poem
in grey stone, a petrified dream of some old Cotswold
architect. The porch is a gem, the windows have stone
mullions — and over them are the projecting label mould-
ings with a deep hollow in them which are so characteristic
of the Tudor period, specially among the Cotswolds.
But little time has Gordon in the mythical or Holman in
the real steeplechase to think of architecture.
The wall on the left of Knoverton Lane seems to have
been a fence with a stone coping in Gordon's day — the
" rise steeply sloping " is there all right. " A cruel
place," said old Mr. Holland. Knoverton Lane stopped
Lycurgus and Lancashire Witch — and the stone wall on
the right was too much for Mantrap and for Andrew
Kerr's mount Mermaid. The ploughed fields now are
above Turner's orchard, which lies over the right-hand
wall and to the right of Knoverton House.
There are springs in the bank below the house which
no doubt helped to cause the *^ Floods " mentioned in
the poem, and the ground is very heavy. The hazel-tree
bough which knocked off the short-sighted Grordon's cap
is evidently a reminiscence of the apple-tree which was
fatal to poor Tramp in the real steeplechase.
Mr. Holman says Tramp's leg bone was in their harness-
room — a gruesome relic — ^for many a year after 1847.
** Where furrows looked lighter" is up Hewlett's Hill,
where Gordon and Bay Iseult landed on turf with their
heads turned for home. Furrows are there now, and it
202 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
was here that in the real race Tom Oliver broke his stirrup-
leather. The brook looks just a silver streak, but doubt-
less it was swollen with flood-water in 1847» and at any
rate it was stanked, if it was not sufficiently formidable
already. At the brook Dick Neville and The Clown
caught Gordon. Neville and his mount — ^both of whom
Stevens did not think within the conditions of the steeple-
chase, though he acknowledged that Dick was a great
rider, and as for The Clown — ^he ^^gave Abd-el-Kader nine
pounds ** at Liverpool I Abd-el-Kader was " the very
famous horse '* that old Mr. Holland loved to talk about.
He won the Grand Nationals of 1850 and 1851, just at the
time Gordon was riding about the Cotswold Hills. That
was all Stevens needed to say about The Clown's cai>abili-
ties, ""he gave Abd-el-Kader at Aintree nine pounds."
They are back through Turner's orchard after the brook
and over the wall on the right of Knovertoh Lane, which
Gordon forgets to mention this time. He is so taken up
with the fence with stone coping (the wall and bank and
ditch on the left) ^^ We diverged round the base of
the hill." Neville's "path was the nearer." Did the
short-sighted Gordon get out of his course as Holman and
Archer did here in the real steeplechase ? They are
getting round towards Queen's Wood and here (where
reaUy Stanmore beat Daddy Long Legs) the race is between
The Clown and Bay Iseult. Here also (me of Gk>rdon's
old chroniclers finds fault with him, when after describing
how he rode a punishing race on a generous and game mare
Gordon says after he landed close to the favourite after
the last jump, *^ I flogg'd up the straight."
In " How we beat the Favourite " the result is given
thus —
** Aye 1 so ends the tossle — ^I knew the tan muzzle
Was first, though the ling-men were yelling dead heat 1
A nose I ooold swear by, but Clarke said ' The mare by
A short head,* and that's how the Favourite was beat."
John Francis Clarke, the famous racing judge, was
THE RACE DESCRIBED BY GORDON 208
appointed to his office in 1852, the year poor Gordon
sailed to Australia. He had, however, officiated as deputy
for his father on various occasions extending over fifteen
years, and he held his onerous and dignified post for many
years. ^'From his naturally shy and retiring habits,"
says Ba%ly*8 Magazine ^ ^' many persons (and good judges
of racing among them too) predicted his failure, but he
proved an extraordinary success." He was by profession
an architect, and erected the Grand Stands at Newmarket,
Goodwood and many courses of lesser note. His father
occupied the judgment-seat before him from 1822 to
1854(?), and his grandfather from 1806 to 1822.
" The rhyme in question (* How we Beat the Favourite *)
has been pronounced by the most erudite of sportsmen,
including the late editor of BelFs Life^ in 1870, by Major
Whyte Melville, by Admiral Rous, by Dr. Shorthouse and
other educational sportsmen, to be the best of its kind
ever penned. BelVs Life^ I remember, in publishing it
appended some particularly flattering notices, and all at
different times remarked in my hearing that no one but
Lindsay Gordon could have produced such a fine piece
of rhythmical word-painting. Could any one but Lindsay
have written such a description of a steeplechaser jumping
a feace in full career as the following, which is a verse of
the piece under discussion ? —
*' * She laoed at the rasper, I felt my knees grasp her,
I found my hands give to her strain on the bit,
She rose when the Clown did — Our aiUcs as we hounded.
Brushed tightly, our stirrups clashed hard as we liC
This last touch of the poem italicised exhibits the experi-
ence of the horseman and the power of the poet. Truly
in matters of this kind, as EHoise concluded her love-
letter to Abdard, I may be permitted to say, * He best
can paint them who has felt them most.'
''This remarkable production is marred in one place, I
admit, by the mention of a piece of aimless cruelty sug-
gested by the exigencies of the rhyme probably)—
204 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
'' ' I flogged up the etnight, and he led— flitting still.*
'^All horsemen know that if Lindsay Gordon had done as
he states, his game mare must have shot her bolt long
before she got to the post and secured the verdict by a
head — " Small Hopes " (Fred Marshall) in the Sporting
and Dramatic^ about 1886.
" ' Kissing Cup,* " said Mr. Pickemell, " isn't in it with
that last steeplechase verse of Gordon's. I never read
it but what I think of poor friend Gordon." Hohnan
and Stanmore beat Archer and Daddy Long Legs by a
short length, Gordon and Bay Iseult beat Neville and
The Clown ^* by a short neck," so Clarke said, and that
is all. It does not need much imagination to walk up
Knoverton Lane with Gyngell's meadows and Turner's
orchard on either side, and see it all again — the uncertain
glory of the April day and the certain glory of Gordon
and Bay Iseult. The fruit trees in Turner's orchard were
pink with apple-blossom, and all the world was young and
very fair. How Gordon must have longed for the green-
ness and the white mists rolling off the hills he never saw
again save in imagination, when he set himself down to
beat The Clown on paper under the Southern Cross.
It is winter now and the mists are low on the top of
Cleeve, and the man who saw the Knoverton Steeplechase
and Gordon's first attempt in the Trials lies in the old
churchyard at Prestbury hard by the door. They had
but a short way to carry him from the house where he
lived seventy-five years, and fron whose windows he saw
€k)rdon passing continually on the way to Tom Oliver's.
And the three great steeplechase riders and friends,
Stevens and Oliver and €k)rdon, ^^ have ridden their last
race and gone to their long rest, leaving behind them
names that will probably last as long as sport and horseman-
ship remain characteristics of the English race. " €k)rdon's
imaginary steeplechase which he evolved out of Knoverton
and Prestbury Park and the Berkeley Hunt Cup is a
living reality, and the real one is almost forgotten, the
Ull
• •
•::
• •
• • • » ?•• r ••• ! ! • •••
THE RACE DESCRIBED BY GORDON 205
steeplechase over the worst course that was ever known
in the days of the Prestbury giants, when Hobnan beat
William Archer by a short length and Oliver broke his
stirrup-leather on Hewlett's Hill and finished the race
without the use of it. The very tree is gone where poor
Tramp met his death in Turner's orchard among the
apple-blossom. Yet still the scene is one of surpassing
beauty, the old grey house with its mullioned windows
and string courses and gables and the silver streak. ^* I
saw the brook glitter/' says Gordon, and tve see it glitter,
but Gordon and the rest are gone.
CHAPTER XV
GORDON AND THE EVER-FAITHFUL CITY— WORCESTER
'' Sib Edward Eloae's mother is a friend of mine, and
I have often told her how I knew Lindsay Gordon when I
was a schoolgirl of seventeen. I Uke the Song of Autumn
so much, and Sir Edward set it to music and it was per-
formed at one of the Festival Concerts." Thus a dainty
little Worcester lady like a Porcelain Shepherdess. She
has never forgotten " linnie " and Gordon's letters show
that he did not forget her. There is a romance in
Gordon's life, she says, which will never be told in her
lifetime, and one would not wonder if she said of herself
^^ Pars magna fui I '' She had a pretty sister (which is
quite to be credited), a year younger than herself, and
Lindsay Gordon used to flirt with Sally but never with
herself — perhaps it went deeper — one does not know, and
the lady will say no more.
Linnie used to chase Sally round the pump and did,
they say, try to kiss her ? Lindsay and Sally had beautiful
chestnut curls just the same colour — curiously enough —
only his were short and hers were long. Gk>rdon was a
very handsome boy with lovely dark-grey eyes which had
a fateful look in them. He had splendid teeth too, but
his old friend says that from his later pictures he looks
as if he had lost them. She remembers that he had
extraordinarily long arms. So, by the way, had Jem
Edwards, and most likely Lindsay's long reach helped to
make him the Earywig's most promising pupil. However,
the lady says, **' she thought she had broken Lindsay of
his love of boxing, he never said much about it, he came
to know I didn't like it." The schoolgirl and the school-
boy had, at least, one taste in common. They both
206
THE EVER-FAITHFUL CITY 207
]>assionately loved horses, and she would ride on a man's
saddle with the stirrap turned over rather than not at all.
She used to ride the Master's covert hack ** Tom Oliver *'
in this way. Tom Oliver (the man), after whom the horse
was named, and this girl seem to have been Lindsay's
chief audience in Cheltenham and Worcester respectively
when he recited poetry. " I knew the poor boy loved
doing it, and I used to ask him to recite. The others used
to laugh at him, but I listened to him by the hour." (Tom
Oliver, however, reaUy enjoyed it.) " Lindsay didn't like
music. I played to him one night and he only said,
* very pretty,' and I could see he wasn't listening at all.
Then he saw I was annoyed and said, ^ Play something
else — do,' but I said ' No, you weren't attending at all.*
Then Lindsay said, ^ Ah, do. I like to look at you when
you are playing 1 ' But I shut up the piano and I never
played to him again. In turning over some music for
repairing, I was again reminded of the happy past in
finding ' Weber's Last Waltz,' the very thing I fancied
I was giving expression to when I was annoyed at finding
my expected listener so unappreciative. Linnie used to
tell me all about his affairs, he thought a lot of me, perhaps
because I was very devoted to my old father, who was an
invalid." She thinks Gk)rdon's mother disapproved of
the expenses Lindsay ran his father into. ^' She wanted
the money kept for herself and the girls, so I have been
told. But Lindsay was only living here about a year,
and I never saw his father and mother and sisters. He was
my brother's friend, that was how we came to know him.
Lindsay had a great friend who courted my sister for
twelve years. They kept up a correspondence after Gordon
went to Australia. There was a great bundle of letters.
I don't know where they are now. I think the Melbourne
Argus borrowed some of them and returned them. After
the death of Lindsay's friend they were distributed among
his family. I kept one of Lindsay's letters for years, but
it was stolen. Gordon was coming home» you know, after
208 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
his father's death, when he got the legacy. But he heard
that the girl he cared so much for was married, so it was
no use his coming home, was it ?
''About that scrape he got into when he stole Lallah
Rookh out of the stable — ^he came and told me all about
it, and how his father had to pay £80. That was the
worst trouble he was ever in, I can assure you — I know,
for he confided everything to me. Don't say that he
got into a scrape that was kept quiet, for that may
imply that he did something dishonourable, and Lindsay
could never have been that." Lindsay has a faithful
friend in this Citizeness of no mean City — the ever faithful
Worcester. ^^ Lindsay went abroad partly because of
this, and chiefly because his sight was not good enough
for the Army. It was a great disappointment to him.
Ah — ^yes, and then he said good-bye." " Were you the
one in the poems ? " But the lady is not to be caught
out in this way. She is a very charming-looking little
lady, and whether she is ^^ the one " or not, Gordon showed
his good taste in admiring her. ^^ I have been twice
married and twice a widow since the days when Sally and
I knew Lindsay," she says sadly. '^ I have a photograph
of the girl he married — a very sweet face she has. A
fortune-teller once told me that I should be well-known
on both sides of the world — ^it seems to be coming true.
Ah — ^well, I said good-bye to Lindsay, but I am not going
to tell you about that, and we never saw him again."
A manuscript about Gordon was sent to this Worcester
China Shepherdess on February 14, she wrote : ^ ^' Your
1 TO A PROUD BEAUTY
A VALBSrmB
" Though I have loved you well, I ween,
And yon, too, fancied me,
Your heart hath too divided been
A constant heart to be.
And like the gay and youthful knight.
Who loved and rode away.
Your fleeting fancy takes a flight
Witii every fleeting day.
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THE EVER-FAITHFUL CITY 209
Valentine surprised me yesterday and reminded me of
over half a eentury ago» when I was aroused from
slumber by a noise of pebbles or shots against the bedroom
window, and in the dull early morning light discovered
two youths looking up, who said they had walked over
five miles and slept in the bam, that theirs should be the
first faces of the male sex seen (by us) on St. Valentine's
morning. Sally, with her usual bluntness (and her lovely
curls packed in papers) exclaimed, ^ Geese I ' Adam
Lindsay Gordon and his boy friend were the two, who as
they said, ^ For luck ' spent the night in the bam on the
eve of St. Valentine. A friend of mine in Worcester has
the rocking-chair in which Grordon was rocked to sleep as
a baby." Another old Worcester friend says, " I cannot
trace that Gordon lived at Worcester earlier than 1852.
At that date his uncle, Captain R. C. H. Crordon, mentioned
in your letter, occupied a house situated at Greenhill,
London Road, Worcester, and I believe Lindsay Gordon
resided there during his stay at Worcester, a period of
about eighteen months only." He was between eighteen
and nineteen then, and was being privately coached by
the then headmaster of the Worcester Royal Grammar
School, an old foundation of Queen Elizabeth's. In a
School Magazine is an account by the headmaster of the
school as it was in 1852. He says, ^' I also taught
private pupils in the school; the most distinguished was
Lindsay Gordon, who was really an extraordinary genius."
Lindsay's mothar (also a Gordon by birth) carried her
pride in her *^ long pedigree " somewhat to excess if one
may judge by her son's poems. A Worcester paper also
So let it be as you propose,
Tho^ hard the straggle be;
^Tis fitter far — that goodness knows ! —
Since we cannot agree.
Let's quarrel once for all, my sweet,
Forget the past — and then
ril kiss each pretty girl I meet,
WhUe you'll flirt with the men.'*
210 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
said that Lindsay was related to General Gordon, and
Generid Gordon has said so himself in writing. None of
the Gordons are left in Worcester now. Lindsay's old
friend in Worcester somehow does not look old enough
to have been Gordon's contemporary. He shared Lindsay's
love of horses and remembers how Lindsay used to frequent
the old Plough Inn stables, where Mr. Charles Walker
kept and trained two or three steeplechase horses for
Captain Rees-Jones and others. Gordon had struck up
an acquaintance with Mr. Walker and with Mr. J. Parker»
the son of a former Master of the Worcestershire hounds,
who is still alive and at one time owned Lallah Rookh.
In the early 'fifties he was riding steq>lechases as a pro-
fessionid jockey. Lindsay frequently rode out with them,
especially when hunting was available. Mr. Charles
Walker died at St. John's, Worcester, on December 90,
1861, aged forty-nine years. Gordon's Worcester friend
himself rode Walker's horses, though he finds that his
experience with the said animals was in 1849-60 and 1851,
before the year in which Gordon came to live in Worcester.
He says that Lindsay spent all the time he could either on
the back of one of these three horses or falling off it — ^very
often the latter. ^^ For my part I never can understand
how Gordon won a steeplechase in any part of the world.
He was so painfully near-sighted. Pluck ? Ah f yes, he
had pluck enough, but he was fearfully short-sighted;
why, he used to be knocked out of his saddle by obstacles
he couldn't see. He never won any steeplechases here —
he never rode in any that I know of. Gordon was only
in Worcester a short time, about a year, I think, and I
don't quite know how I got to know Gordon. It would be
hard to convince one that Gordon ever won any steeple'
chases anywhere.*^ (It is curious, in this connection, to
remember Mr. Pickernell's remark that, ^* It was news to
him that Lindsay had ever been on a horse's back in his
schooldays.") **' But did not Gordon win the steeplechase
on Walker's mare ? "
THE EVER-FAITHFUL CITY 211
" No, that FlI swear he didn*t. Walker rode her
himself," replied the authority referred to elsewhere as
Wigom, thus repudiating the story given by Mr. Howlett
Ross in the following passage. This is the story *^ so nearly,"
Mr. Howlett Ross says, ^^ as it can be ascertained. Gordon
when a youth of about seventeen was anxious to distinguish
himself in the Worcestershire Steeplechases, but he was so
well-known, even then, as a reckless rider, that he found
it impossible to obtain a mount. In despair he paid a
man^ £5 for the privilege of riding his mare next day
at the races. The same night it was seized by the Sheriff,
and locked up in the stables of a Worcester hotel.
Gordon failed to see the justice of this, and, deeming that
he had a certain claim on the animal» broke into the stable
and took the horse away. He appeared at the races on
the following day, and it is asserted won the steeplechase
in which he rode. But at the conclusion of the race the
officers of the law appeared, and rescued the mare from
her proud rider. He escaped in the crowd, but a warrant
was issued for his arrest. The friendly intervention of
Tom Oliver of Prestbury, and the payment of a monetary
consideration by Captain Gordon, prevented the execution
of the warrant."
Gordon's old acquaintance thinks that most of this
story is correct. He thinks Gordon did take the lock off
the stable door probably at the old Plough Inn (now the
Angel), where Lallah Rookh was kept in a loose box
through the archway on the left of the picture. Gordon,
however, had to disappear at once. The Sheriff's officers
took the mare from him and only Black Tom's persuasive
tongue and Captain Gordon's ^^ monetary consideration "
of £80 prevented the execution of the warrant. This
friend also remarks that *^ respecting the cause of Gordon's
leaving England I have no knowledge, yet should say,
^ Miss Gordon says that Lmdsay and a friend had bought the mare and
were behind-hand in paying for her keep. Lindsay also thrashed the
ostler.
212 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
as my opimoiit that the so-called Worcester escapade had
nothing to do with it. I just remember the occurrence,
but do not think much notice was taken of it in Worcester ;
but then Gordon was here only some eighteen months and
probably known to only few of the inhabitants ; further it
is sixty years ago and most of those who knew him are
gone. Plainly I don't think an escapade of that nature
would have troubled Gordon much." Lallah Rookh had
become Louisa when Gordon rode her in the Cheltenham
Steeplechases in 1852. So far the name of Louisa's rider
at Cheltenham in 1858 cannot be ascertained.
George Stevens remembers his mother mentioning
Lallah Rookh. Wigom says, ^^ I remember the mare
called Louisa (late Lallah Rookh). In colour she was
black." (Bob James of Prestbury, Tom Oliver's old
jockey, remembers Louisa, but not Gordon, who rode her
so often. When told that he remembered horses better
than people he said, ^* Of course I do.")
In 1851, on October 18, The City of Worcester Steeple-
chase was won by Mr. Hooper's black mare, Lidlah Rookh,
aged 6 yrs. Her racing performances as recorded in the
Steeplechase Calendar of the date are as follows —
1852.
March 9, at Beckford, entered as Mr. J. Parker's Louisa ;
won a 8j^ miles steeplechase. Ridden by Mr. Walker.
4 ran
March 11, at Morton-in-the-Marsh, entered as Mr. J.
Parker's Louisa ; ran unplaced. Rider not named.
March 18, at CharJbury, entered as Mr. J. Parker's
Louisa; won a 8 miles steeplechase. Ridden by
owner. 5 ran.
March 25, at Cheltenham^ entered as Mr. J. Parker's
Louisa; was second in a 8 miles steeplechase.
Ridden by Stevens. 4 ran.
March 25, at CheUenham, entered as Mr. Parker's Louisa ;
ran implaced in the Berkeley Hunt Cup — 8 miles.
Ridden by Mr. Bolton. (The Cheltenham Journal
says she was ridden by Mr. Gordon.)
II
Is
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THE EVER-FAITHFUL CITY 218
April 29, at LeominrteTf entered as Mr. 6. L. Parker's
Louisa ; was second in a 8 miles steeplechase. Ridden
by Mr. C. Walker. 5 ran.
May 11, at Worcestershire Hunt Meeting, Crowle won a
4 miles steeplechase. Entered and ridden by Mr.
Walker. 5 ran. (This was the time Gordon stole
her out of the stable.)
Wigom writes — " You will no doubt notice that Gordon
is not mentioned in the Steeplechase Calendar in connection
with any of the foregoing events either as owner or as
rider. Mr. Bolton is returned as the rider in the Berkeley
Hunt Cup at Cheltenham, March 25, 1852. It is possible
Gordon assumed that name on that occasion, as registra*
tion was not required in those days."
The only race Gordon is supposed to have won in England
is a steeplechase over stone walls at Birdlip, and of this
there is no written record,~*or at least none can be found.
Let his admirers ever pray that this at least may be left
to them. Since then has been foimd a record of a hurdle
race of 8 sovs. each with 15 added, at Tewkesbury, won
by Mr. Gordon on his own mare Louisa (aged), September
28, 1852, so that Louisa evidently pass^ into Gordon's
possession.
Lallah Rookh may have been the original of Bay Iseult.
She won steeplechases whether with Lindsay on her back
or not. His friend Stevens was second at Cheltenham
on her in 1852. Perhaps Gordon thought Bay Iseidt
somewhat better than black Lallah Rookh and much
better than black Louisa — so he changed her name for the
third time, and her colour for all eternity by Poet's Licence.
AixusioNs TO Lallah Rookh in Gordon's Lettebs to
Chabley Walkeb.
Gordon writes from Penola (November 1854) to Charles
Palmer Walker : ^^ So the Governor is in luck again. I
am rejoiced to hear it, and has ridden the old black ^un at
Birmingham Knowle and was beat. She was never such
a good one as he thought, though at heavy-weights and
214 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
four miles I think she would take some beating. I wish
I had her here, horses do not go so fast as they do in
England."
1. Gordon (in a letter to C. P. Walker written from
Priory Street) alludes to ^^ the night-larks and capture of
the Rooking Mare, with the various exaggerated and non-
exaggerated details of the glorious transaction.
2. ^* IVe no idea of ending my riding career in the Chelten-
ham brook as seen in the next page " (sketch of Gordon and
the Rooking Mare in the brook).
8. At some steeplechases held at Tewkesbury, Monday
and Tuesday, the 22nd and 28rd of September, 1852, a
Hurdle Race of 8 sovereigns each with 15 added.
Mr. Gk>rdon's Louisa, aged, 1. Owner.
Mr. T. Golby's Comedy, aged, 2. .
When Gordon is speaking of going to Australia in his
letters to C. P. Walker he says —
^* I should like to see the Worcester Autumn event come
off" (before he sails for Australia). '' I must see the pro-
gramme for the steeplechases next November before I can
tell when I will go. Young Holmes of this town has asked
me to ride his mare at a little hurdle race coming off near
Gloucester. (N.B.) He won't see much of the stakes if I
wm.
^* I told the whole story of the race to the Governor (my
father, I mean), and he was rather crabbed, and said I
shouldn't have been done if he could have known it in
time. I've been a most unlucky fellow all along, but there's
no good grumbling. Give me a line and I will pay you
a visit if you like. I've got over this scrape pretty well,
for no one knows of it. I mean the forfeit job. I am
surprised at the calm and stagnant state of things and
wonder how long they'll last." Lieut.-Col. J. Watkins
Yardley says : " My explanation of the * forfeit job ' is
this, li a horse is entered for races and the entrance
money is not paid, the owner and horse are put in the
ii
THE EVER-FAITHFUL CITY 215
forfeit list, and cannot start for another race until the back
entrance fees are paid. It is quite possible that Gordon
was in the forfeit list."
Ridden at Prestbury Park by Gk)rdon and Stevens it seems
reasonable to suppose that Lallah Rookh is the heroine
of the classic event when Gordon and Stevens sang her
praises and Stevens told Gordon how to ride her to victory.
I have never heard," says Gordon's Worcester historian,
of a picture of the mare Louisa (late Lallah Rookh) being
published. In fact her history is obscure. I searched in
the General Stud Book and found no record — ^probably she
was a H.B. Further there is no record in the Steeplechase
Calendar of the mare running in steeplechases earlier than
1852." In the photograph of the old Plough Inn there is
a ** gateway " on the left leading to the stable and horse
boxes in one of which Lallah Rookh was attended to, and
from which I think it reasonable to suppose that Gordon
took her out when the Sheriff's officers had locked her up.
The Plough Inn is one of the oldest houses in this ancient
city. ** It saw Elizabeth and Charles H. and those that
came to Worcester before them."
It stood probably unchanged through Lindsay Gordon's
short span of life. Some of the friends Gordon rode with
in his Worcester days are here to tell the story and Mr.
Pickemell can tell of Gordon's doings at the Roebuck in
Cheltenham, but Gordon himself has been only a memory
for the last forty years or more.
It should be remembered that in the old coaching days
Worcester, which was only twenty-six miles from Chelten-
ham by road, was more in touch with it than it is now.
Miss Frances Gordon, whose memoir of her cousin is one
of the most valuable contributions to this biography, was
the daughter of Captain R. C. H. Gordon, the unde with
whom Gordon stayed at Worcester, and the letter of
Gordon's reproduced in autograph in this book proves
that they continued on terms of the utmost cordiality after
Lindsay had gone to Australia. Miss Gordon writes —
216 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
^^ I am afraid I cannot tell you much about Lindsay's
manners in Society, nor if he was fond of the society of
beautiful women. I was a little girl when he was living
with us and did not go out to parties except occasionally,
where there were children, and my father and mother lived
very quietly ; but the people we knew belonged to our own
set and Lindsay knew the same people. I do not imagine
he would have been shy, or otherwise than at his ease,
with any one, either beautiful ladies or any one else; he
used to be friends with . • . and her elder sister, who
were very handsome. I never saw him act in Regular
TheatriccJs, but he used to be fond of taking part in
Charades, which we often used to act at home, when any
of our friends came to spend the evening with us. He made
friends with jockeys and horsey sort of people because he
was so fond of horses, but he of course knew nice people,
but there was not much gaiety at Worcester, and my people
did not go in much for gaiety nor do I fancy his own family
did. His mother was always going abroad for her health.
He was not, I think, like his father, who had a good deal of
the old-world excessively chivalrous manner, but he was,
I fancy, much like any other young men of his day. How
far his poetry expresses exactly what he thought I don't
know, he was a great admirer of Byron and took him for a
copy and wrote things often in his style."
Miss Sidebottom says : ^^ Lindsay Gordon was a charming
young fellow when I Imew him, and he and I and his cousins
used to have some very pleasant country walks together.
I was only thirteen when Lindsay left England. He was
tall and slight and very agile, and had very dark, crisp wavy
hair. The sister (Inez) married an Italian. His father was
a very nice and good-looking man."
She says that '^ in the holidays when all the Grordons
were at home from school she used to spend most of
her time with them. There were six (?) boys and Fanny
and Lindsay at the time he lived with Captain R. C. H.
Gordon at Greenhills. They were a most original and
THE EVER-FAITHFUL CITY 217
interesting lot of children, all of them, but Lindsay was
really exceptional. He seemed as if he could do every-
thing. They used to go out for walks nearly every day
and Lindsay always jumped over all the walls and hedges.
He seemed able to jump over everything. She jumped
over too, Lindsay would hold her hand on one side and
sometimes one of the other boys on the other. Then
they used to act charades. Lindsay was very great at that
— ^he was always full of spirits and altogether a most
charming and attractive boy. She has always understood
that Lindsay got into rather hot water for keeping a
horse when he was at Woolwich, which was contrary to
the regulations and he couldn't afford it. But there he
wanted to do it and so he thought ht must. He was just a
very high-spirited boy with boundless energy and if he
only hadn't gone off to Australia very likely he would have
settled down in time." Miss Sidebottom said she thought
Lindsay must have felt quite cut off from every one at home
when that man in Australia kept back his home letters for
60 many years. It must have embittered Lindsay and
preyed on his mind. She should like to know who that
man was. Miss Sidebottom said the brother Miss Grordon
described as having ** Sabbatarian Views " used to give
the other children (including herself) little tracts with
their besetting sins (as he understood them) plainly marked
so that they should make no mistakes. When the boys
went back to school they used to cut off locks of hair to
give to each other. Miss Sidebottom has a fine collection
of the (vordons' hair of all sorts and colours. They are tied
up with tiny bows of coloured ribbon and wrapped up in
tissue paper. She cannot find one of Lindsay's, but she
says she will look again. He had very pretty hair, chest-
nut, and very curly. Indeed, he was a very handsome boy.
He had a very long throat (so had Inez and Mrs. Gordon),
but it was beautiful in its way, rather like a pillar. Mrs.
Gordon and Inez were very graceful, very good looking,
and their long necks gave them a sort of swan-like look.
218 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Lindsay had a way of throwing his head back — ^rather like
a startled stag he looked sometimes. Inez married an
Italian and went to live in Switzerland or Italy, Hiss
Sidebottom could not remember which, though her sister
went to see them once when she was travelling abroad.
She did not think Inez seemed happy.
They used to have a very happy time together. All the
Gordon boys are dead now. When Miss Sidebottom heard
of Lindsay's death she wrote to her friend Mr. Livingstone
Learmonth, and asked him if he could tell her anything
about Gordon. He said that he hadn't ever met him
himself but had heard a great deal about him from other
people. Gordon always rode for his friend Major Baker.
He understood that Gordon's widow was left very badly
off and that the Poems were being sold for her b^aefit.
Mr. John Randall of Worcester says : ^^ I remember
Lindsay Gordon's father well but I cannot recall the son.
He left England when I was about seven years old, but I
have been to his father's house in Cheltenham, I must have
seen him there if not in Worcester, because I have played
with the Gordon children at his uncle's house in Worcester,
where he stayed. His father was the hero of my child-
hood's days, and I remember how nice he was to me. The
Gordons were highly connected and proud of their lineage.
Lindsay 'slove of horse-racing, and the prize-ring led him into
company that his parents thought low and degrading, and
caused great unhappiness, which led to his leaving England.
I cannot help thinking that his wild escapades were but
freaks of a noble nature, which could not be controlled,
that he, like his father, not only was, but had the instincts
of a gentleman, and was never known to do a mean thing."
He fancies that one of Miss Gordon's maternal relatives
named Elrington wrote some poems on ^* The Youth of
Australia."
Miss Gordon says that Captain A. D. Gordon and his
family once lived in St. George's Square, Worcester, and also
out at Kempsey . This was probably before Captain Gordon
THE EVER-FAITHFUL CITY 219
became a Master at Cheltenham College. Captain R. C. H.
Gordon's home at Worcester is a tall narrow house in a
quiet side street. It had a long narrow garden — and the
Gordcms had the use of the one next to it. The jump out
of the only window which looks out on the garden must
have been a truly awful one, and Fanny and Dick Gordon
were two courageous children if they tackled that with
their human steeds. There is a long wide wall still down
which Lindsay often ran with little Fanny on his back
and dropped her into a hedge which has disappeared.
CHAPTER XVI
"AND BLACK TOM OLIVER"
In an old Chettenham Joumaly published in 1874,
appears the following advertisement. " For Sale : — ^House
with garden and paddock. Stabling for thirteen horses.
Situated in the delightful village of Prestbury. And well
deserving the attention of Capitalists and others/' (Gordon
would have liked nothing better than to be a Capitalist,
or even one of the others, with money enough to secure
this earthly paradise, ^* suitable for the residence of
any gentleman fond of hunting.) In the centre of Earl
Fitzhardinge's country. Also suitable for a trainer. Now
in the occupation of Mr. Thomas Oliver. Sale Monday,
8th of July, at 8 o'clock." The Hand of Tune has swept away
^^ this Mecca of (rordon's early pilgrimage." Black Tom
himself, and his pupils George Stevens €knd Lindsay Gordon,
are only a memory in Prestbury — and Gordon is barely
that. Indeed in the late Mr. Holland probably the last
Prestbury man who remembered (rordon has passed
away. Leland wrote of Prestbury " that it is a pratie
townelet standing a mile Este south este " (which should
be north), ^^ from Chiltenham in Gloucestershire. It hath
been somewhat defacid by chaunce of fier."
In the main road through the village, just where the
lane to the church branches off, lived the late Mr. Holland.
Bom in Prestbury he lived in the house for seventy-five
out of eighty-seven years. He used to see Lindsay Gordon
passing his house on his way out to Tom Oliver's.
" A nice-looking young fellow, I never saw him without
his cap, he has a good forehead in that picture. I used to
see him riding Tom's horses on the Race-course — ^he ought
220
•BLACK TOM OLIVER ' 221
to have ridden well, he had a good tutor in Tom Oliver —
^ Black Tom ' — ^they used to call him. Dark, very dark, a
good-looking chap, very clever and witty. Now if it was
Tom Oliver you wanted to know about I could tell you
some tales. A great man in the village was Tom. One
day he went and asked the baker to go for a walk with
him. The baker felt lifted up. * Wife,* he called up the
stairs, ^ bring me down my top hat, I'm going for a walk
with Mr. OUver.' * Don't you know,* said this unkind
woman, * that it*s under the bed with a quarter of seed
potatoes in it ? * Tom Oliver (and William Holman)
taught Mr. Pickemell to ride when he was a boy at Chelten-
ham College. George Stevens and Lindsay Gordon were
also Tom's pupils. At different times Mr. Pickemell and
Gordon used to go out hunting with Oliver. * Tom
Oliver,' says the History of Steeplechasingy * was bom at
Angmering in Sussex, some say he had gipsy blood ^ in his
veins. He was bom and died hopelessly insolvent. Page,
the Epsom trainer, was his uncle, and to him he was sent to
learn stable work and a certain amount of reading and
writing. Page failed ere long and Tom, having nothing
better to do, took service in Ireland, where poverty again
reigned supreme and the unlucky Tom had, once more, to
run for it.' He landed in Liverpool with only a few pence
in his pocket, obtained a situation as rough-rider, left it
to go to another trainer who failed, and Oliver had once
more the world before him. He set up as a gentleman
rider and he soon had plenty of moimts. A win on
Reformer at St. Albans, when Mason on Lottery was
second, established his reputation as one of the foremost
steeplechase riders. In the spring of 1888 he won the
Dunchurch Steeplechase, beating Mason on the Nun;
Oliver was always in difficulties, and once, when shut up
in Oxford gaol for debt, a friend asked if he could send him
an3rthing that would be useful to him. * Send me a
d— d good wall- jumper,' was Tom's reply The History
^ But his pedigree proves that it was Spanish.
222 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
of SteeplechaHng also gives an account of Oliver's Lawsuit,
which he won against the executors of a man whose horses
he had trained. The executors considered Tom's charges
excessive. The case was heard hef ore a sporting Judge and
the Counsel for the defence was welUmown on the Turf,
and Tom had wanted to retain his services for himself.
" * Come,' said this gentleman. * Mr. Oliver, you have
already informed the Court that £5 for a losing steeple-
chase mount, and £10 for a winner of a similar description
was the regular price. How is it, then, that you have
charged £60 for winning this particular race ? Did you
have any express contract before you rode ? '
Oliver. ^*' ^ No, I had no previous agreement.'
Mr. . " * Then how do you pretend to defend this
outrageous charge ? '
Oliver. " ' Well, before I answer that question, please let
me read the back of your brief. I want to see how much
they give you to ride this match i^ainst me ! '
Mr. . " ' Certainly not. Tha,t is a matter totally
wide of the question.'
Oliver. ^' * Oh t no, it isn't. I should like to see what
they are giving you for your mount.'
'^ There was a great laugh at this, and the Judge joined in
with the public and the bar in their mirth. When the
laughter had subsided Mr. continued : * I don't
intend to satisfy you. Now, then, tell the pubUc how you
can support this charge.'
Oliver. " * Well, it was a big race, and I won it. Now, if
I could get you to ride for me to-day, I think I could have
made a certainty of getting all the stakes, and I shouldn't
have thought of giving you less than a couple of ^* ponies,"
whatever the Taxing Master might have said afterwards,
while as to these outsiders,' indicating the bar in gen^f
* I would not have had them at a quid apiece,' ''
Mr. Oliver won his case.
The same writer says of Jem Mason that " when the
erratic Tom Oliver had nothing left in the world but
* BLACK TOM OLIVER' 228
Tmst'tne-natf^ he asked Jem Mason to buy him in order
that he might have a little ready money. ^^ Don't you sell
your horse," said Jem, ** but send him to me and I will
win you a race/' while the advice was accompanied by
a £5 note to pay the cost of the animal's transit. He won
the race cleverly and put Tom Oliver on his legs again.
Tom Oliver had already won three victories at Aintree
when Lindsay Gk)rdon left home. The late Mr. Fred
Marshall in his MS. notes has said a good deal about
Gordon's friendship with Oliver, *Ho whose stables at
Prestbury he became a constant visitor, and through whose
aid and kindness he completed his education in all-round
horsemanship. He had made the acquaintance of Tom
Sayers,* who was then training for one of his earlier fights
under Tom Oliver's care, (rordon's acquaintance with
heroic poetry was well-known, and fully appreciated by
his friends and companions, all of whom, Tom Oliver
especially, were fond of, as well as capable of enjoying,
the intellectual treats which he could give them over the
mahogany. One of Gordon's favourite recitations was
Longfellow's * Skeleton in Armour.' It was OUver, of
course, tradition says, who got Gordon out of his scrape in
Worcester when he took the lock off the stable door to get
out Lallah Rookh. It is said that Gordon was always, if a
welcome guest, an unsatisfactory pupil." Oliver gave
Gordon his first mount in the trials on Prestbury Race-
course and often lent him horses, though, as a rule, people
were not eager to mount the impecunious and reckless
schoolboy.
Lindsay (rordon mentions OUver twice in his poems.
In '* By Flood and Field " his name comes last (but not
least) in a list of notabilities of the Cotswold Hunt. Lind-
say lingers over his name as all Oliver's friends do— as if
^ In the Selling Steepleohase at ProBtbnry, April 6, 1852, Mr. T. F.
Maaon's Trtut-me-not came in last
* In an old BaUy is an aooonnt of Tom Sayers's funeral, in whioh it ib
said that his dog was the only respectable person present.
224 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
he loved it, *' And black Tom Oliver." Again, in the
Hunting Song Gordon pays a tribute to his old friend and
tutor —
'* Here's a health to every Sportsman, be he stableman or lord.
If his heart be true I care not what his pocket may afford.
And may he ever pleasantly each gallant sport pursue.
If he takes his liquor fairly, and his fences fairly too.
He cares not for the troubles of Fortune's fickle tide.
Who like Bendigo can battle and Uke OUiver can ride^
He laughs at those who caution, at those who chide heHl frown.
As he clears a five-foot paling or he knocks a peeler down."
This sounds a very true description of Oliver, whose
recklessness and love of poetry have, through Gordon, made
their mark on Australian Uterature. The pity of it is that
Oliver did not teach Gordon to laugh. A sense of humour
is so sadly lacking in Oliver's pupil and no one would have
thought it possible. If Oliver sometimes helped Grordon
into scrapes he was always willing to get him out of them,
and certainly the Australians may thank him in a great
measure for the first of Australian poets and the best
amateur rider in the colony. Only at Prestbury was
Lindsay encouraged in his poetical aspirations. Old Mr.
Holland had an old newspaper cutting which remarks that
why (rordon's beautiful poems were bought up and sup-
pressed by his friends is best known to them. The Bad-
minton Library's volume on Racing and Steeplechasing
says of Tom Oliver that he won three Grand Nationals,
and other races all over the country. He taught the late
Captain Little much of the jockeyship which he so often
turned to account, but as a horseman he was far inferior
to Mason, and, there is reason to suppose, frankly recognised
his inferiority. As a lad he did most of his riding on bare-
backed animals ; from a child he had displayed a passion
for riding and had never been so happy as when on a
donkey, and is spoken of as going wonderfully well to
hounds on a broken-kneed grey mare. He had the most
fervent admiration for Captain Becher, and his delight
•BLACK TOM OLIVER' 226
w^ extreme when at Clifton, over hurdles, he beat his
idol by a head. Oliver distinguished himself greatly on
Foreigner, an animal which was backed over and over
again to kill his rider against winning. When Mason rode
Oliver's Trust-me-not, he first took off the terribly severe
bit which Oliver had put on. This occurrence supports
what has been said of the relative capacity of the two men.
Oliver often rode for Mr. Joseph Anderson, the famous
dealer of 108, Piccadilly. He won the Grand National
in 1842, on Mr. Darcy's Gay Lad, in 1848 on Lord
Chesterfield's Vanguard, and in 1853 on Captain Little's
Peter Simple. Oliver appears in Herring's picture " Steeple-
chase Cracks," moimted on the chestnut, Discount. In
and out of the saddle Tom Oliver was a universal favourite.
He was always cheery, possessed a ready wit, was a kindly-
hearted man, but not being very particular as to his personal
appearance, he presented a strong contrast to the always
well-dressed and somewhat foppish Jem Mason, while his
high spirits stood out strongly against the grim melancholy
of William McDonough.^ Oliver was a fine, resolute, if
not over-el^ant horseman. Mr. Holland used to talk a
good deal about Oliver in connection with a horse called
Thurgarton which belonged to Mr. Davenport, on which,
in 1848 at Cheltenham, William Archer won a steeplechase,
beating Tom Oliver on his own horse Vanguard. Mr.
Holland said there used to be, if indeed it is not still there,
a coloured print of Oliver on Thurgarton in the inn at
Andoversford, which William Archer afterwards kept.
There is a beautiful picture of Oliver on Birmingham in
the Stork Hotel at Birmingham (see p. 226). Thurgarton
afterwards belonged to Mr. Cartwright, for whom Oliver
often rode. At the Cheltenham Easter Steeplechases in 1851
Thurgarton won the Hunters' Stakes, ridden by Cheswas. Li
1853 Thurgarton won the United Hunters' Stakes Handicap
ridden by Mr. F. Berkeley. Oliver had many hair's-
breadth escapes. The Cheltenham Journal says, that in
^ Baiiy suggested in 1874 that Captain Little should write Oliyer's Life.
Q
226 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
1851, Victim (originally Standard-bearer), was killed in
the South Leicestershire Steeplechases. OUver, his rider»
was injured. The horse had been bought by Mr. Palmer
for £500. In the famous Knoverton Steeplechase OUver
broke his stirrup leather half-way through the race and
finished the steeplechase without it. Two Cheltenham
papers remarked on this wonderful f eat, for the course was
one of fearful difficulty. Oliver got a bad fall in the Grand
National in 1858. It is said to have been Oliver who in a
snowstorm stopped in the first round of a steeplechase at
Warwick and sheltered behind a hayrick. He chipped
in again towards the end suddenly, appearing ahead of the
leading horses. Mr. Fred Marshall's brother remembers
Oliver leading a horse up a hill on his way to the Hunt
Steeplechases (Lord Fitzhardinge, then Lord Segrave, used
to flag out the course €knd often the riders did not know
where it would be till the morning of the meeting). Oliver
told Mr. Marshall that the animal had been called Cheroot
because it had a curious mark on it. It was an old horse
which had been trained up for the occasion. ^' You see
that fence," said Oliver ; " well, if he gets to that he*ll win."
They watched and the horse did not manage to stagger to
the fence. Black Tom once offered to lie in wait for
Spring-Heeled Jack in a ditch. He stayed there for hours
with a gun and the agile Jack leapt over the very ditch
Oliver was in and was lost to sight before Tom could get
in a shot. One day several friends went to see Oliver, €knd
Tom put his back against the door and said, ^^ Now then,
you'll none of you go home till you are drunk ! " Rather
excessive hospitality ! Tom once described a visit to the
theatre where he and his wife sat in the Dress Circle.
^* The Missus had a parting all along her head like a gravel
path with a flower garden at one end of it, and I had my
best togs on. Suddenly at the back of the Pit a shabby
figure rose up waving a glass. ^ Hullo ! Tom, old chap —
come and have a drink.' " Oliver's name is always spelt
Olliver in Gordon's poems and in most sporting books and
I?.
Si
I • •
• •
••
• «
• •
_• •
•
• • •
• ••
t •
• •
'••.:
:•*:
;•:
•••
• • • •
• • •• • •
•
^ BLACK TOM OLIVER' 227
papers. '* I don't know why you spell it with two ll's,"
said Mr. Holland. " Tom himself always spelt it with
one." ^ Probably Oliver knew how to write his own name,
though his spelling certainly left something to be desired.
Mr. Elmes, an old apprentice of Tom's, says that Oliver
(Gipsy Tom as he calls him — ^he was half a Gipsy really) once
sold a horse. Having clinched the bargain he asked the
new owner what the animal was wanted for and was told
" To carry the mails out to Winchcombe and Toddington."
" Well," said Tom, " you can just give him a flick with the
whip by the Rising Sun * and he'll kick you into Winch-
combe Post Office 1 " This cheerful prophecy was fulfilled
a few weeks later when the delightful creature kicked the
mail van to pieces and was again '^ For Sale." Oliver's
old thatched home and stables stood just where the road
from Prestbury turns round sharply towards Southam. A
row of loose boxes stood where the garden wall is, belonging
to the present house. Oliver's handsome son used to sit
on the wall sometimes to talk to the Miss Shentons or other
pretty girls. Oliver for some time kept two establish-
ments going, one at Prestbury and the other at Wroughton,
near Swindon, in Wiltshire. The village inn at Wroughton
shows on its sign the Horse and Jockey, Ely (one of
Oliver's horses) standing for the horse and a red-coated
rider for the jockey.
Oliver left Cheltenham altogether in 1857, and was at
Wroughton for the rest of his life. If there was anything
Tom Oliver hated and feared it was law. " Law," he said,
^^ was like a country dance, you got led up and down by
your coquettish partner, your attorney, till you were tired
but never satisfied." At Bristol the staid and reverend
Mr. Commissioner Hill looked with a frowning brow several
times at the bankrupt steeplechase-rider as he answered
^ His family now spell it with two IPs. The latest infonnation prores
that he was part Spaniard, not part Gipsy.
' The Rising Snn is the inn on Cleere Hill, near which Stevens's horse
shied and bolted down the hill with him, thus oausing his death,
Qa
228 ADAM LINDSAY GORDOlNr
the pressing inteirogatories of the opposing lawyer in his
peculiarly emphatic but rather evasive manner. ^^ Tell
the Court, Mr. Oliver/' said Mr. Abbott, with considerable
empressement, '^ why did you sell Battery for so small a
sum as £8 ? " " Why did I sell him for £8 ? '* quoth Tom,
" because I couldn't get any more." " Bankrupt '*
here interposed the Commissioner, ^^ be careful. Do not
prevaricate.'' ^^ Look here, your honour," spoke out our
poor badgered friend, *' you must excuse me if my answers
don't meet with your approval, but off the pig-skin I'm
the biggest fool in England." It took ten minutes for the
Commissioner to recover his gravity. Mistaking the intent
demeanour of the Conunissioner, who was simply cogi-
tating in his mind whether he should give him a first,
second or third class certificate, poor Tom suddenly bolted
from the Court. The Commissioner turning towards the
witness-box to lay on a little mild rebuke before giving
Tom his discharge, noticed his absence, and being informed
of his flight, ordered the bailiffs of the Court to catch him.
The bailiffs came back in half-an-hour, breathless, to say
that they not only couldn't catch Tom, but couldn't catdi
sight of him. After several months' needless retirement
Tom purged his contempt of Court by appearing in person
before the Commissioner, who, with the utmost cordiality
and good temper, not only gave him his discharge, but
some pleasant advice along with it, with which he blended
his good wishes for the eccentric bankrupt. At Gloucester
in another encounter with the law the mention of Battery
opened an old wound, and Tom at once got his bristles up
when Counsel again asked him why he sold Battery, a
horse of some merit as a chaser, at so small a sum as £8.
Oliver felt more at home with Baron Martin, who was trying
the case, than he had done under the calm scrutiny of
Conunissioner Hill, and he faced his interrogator with a
demeanour that created much interest and amusement.
Counsel. " Now Mr. Oliver, you have always evaded
this question. What made you sell this valuable steeple-
•BLACK TOM OLIVER' 229
chase horse for so small a sum as £8 ? He was a first-rate
horse, wasn't he?"
Oliver. ** Pirst-rate ? Well, that's a matter of opinion.
He couldn't carry a baby and it took three men to hold
him."
Counsel. " But he won several times ? "
Oliver. ^' Lost oftener." (Roars of laughter.)
Counsel. *^ This may be very amusing but I must pin
you to the point. Why did you sell him so cheap ? "
Oliver. (Very deliberately). *'Well, then, if you must
know he had a leg.^^ (More laughter.)
Counsel. ** I suppose he had ; he had four legs, hadn't
he?"
OKver. ^* Yes, certainly ; but he had a very particular
one." (Renewed laughter in which the Judge himself
joined heartily.)
Counsel. *^ Oh, you can't get out of answering by this
unintelligible foolery. Let me know, sir, what do you
mean by a leg ? "
Oliver (smiling blandly on the learned Counsel and
pointing backwards over his left shoulder with his thumb
to the Judge, without moving a muscle of his face). *^ Ask
the Baron, he can tell you."
After the roars of laughter had subsided Baron Martin
explained.
Oliver called subpoenas — *^ SubpoenySf deuce take 'mi."
** Tom Oliver was once staying with Mr. Bosley, the land-
lord of the Green Dragon at Hereford. There was a writ
out against him, but the Sheriff's officers could only enter a
man's own house, and were posted all round the house to
arrest Tom as he left the house. He was going to ride in a
big steeplechase on a horse in which Bosley had an interest.
Some one suggested that the horse should be brought into
the bar and that Oliver should mount and ride out boldly.
But a sporting lawyer suggested that the horse might slip
and fall on the tiled passage, and besides, even a touch of a
bailiff on his projecting boot-toe would be an arrest. A
280 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
bolt after an arrest means that the delinquent breaks out
of one of Her Majesty's prisons. A deiu ex mackina ap-
peared. A poor old waiter had died some days previously
and a hearse was drawn up to the door just as the coundl
were rising from the consultations. The assembled sages
took the dead man out of his cofiin and put Tom in. They
boxed him up with plenty of air room and having deposited
him in the hearse drove away outside the city boundaries,
where he was safe for the day. For the writ was directed
to the City Sheriff, where the Coimty Sheriff could not act,
and so Tom Oliver rode his race and, it is said, won."
(Copied from the Sporting Times by the CheUenham
Mercury, May 16, 1885 (?).)
When Paddy Jackson had hunting groimds at Padding-
ton, some wags took Tom OUver (who was unknown to
Jackson) down there for a lesson in riding. Tom acted
his part to perfection, and the delight of the jokers was
excessive when Jackson informed him that after a few
more lessons he should be able to take him out with the
harriers.
The contrast between Oliver's style of riding and that
of his rival Jem Mason was very great. It was a sight for
sore eyes to see Jem put his horse at a fence, so skilfully
did he handle him. Oliver, on the contrary, was a
one-handed rider, and horses frequently refused with him,
but if the two landed together over the last fence it was any
odds on Tom Oliver. Mason was a poor finisher, whilst
Oliver's education in the racing stables had made him an
accomplished jockey. Then again, Oliver was the best
judge of pace. His making the running on The Chandler,
in a match with Charity at Newport Pagnell, was a master-
piece. In picking his ground Mason had no superior.
^^ Here Jem will come," said John Elmore, pointing out some
sound ground, ** and here the others will go." And the event
proved that Elmore was right. If, then, Mason was the
best suited to the lines of country that were chosen forty
years ago (this was written in 1874), Oliver woidd have
* BLACK TOM OLIVER' 281
been more than his match over the courses of the present
day. When Captain Little won the Grand National on
The Chandler ^ it was a wonderful piece of luck, for he did
not then know much about steeplechasing, and when it
came to the finish he had to fight out the issue with his old
coach Tom Oliver, well-known as one of the most resolute
riders of the day. Thomas Coleman, the Father of Steeple-
chasing, first encouraged Tom Oliver to try his hand at the
sport. At Wroughton Oliver trained many good horses,
such as Ely, Fairweather, and G^rge Frederick, which last,
as Oliver prophesied on his death-bed, won the Derby of
1874 a few months after his trainer's death and on the
birthday of King Grcorge V (George Frederick). A Baily
of that yearsays, '^ that the public had favoured this horse
from the time he first appeared at York and they stuck to
him to the last. His good looks got him their support,
and they had faith, moreover, in Tom Oliver's d}ing words
that his horse would win the Derby. Poor old Tom !
It would have been a proud moment for him if he could
have led Grcorge Frederick back to the weighing stand and
Tom would have been as much cheered as his horse."
Swindon seems to have gone mad over George Frederick
and over Apology, the mare that won the St. Leger.
iC
When the news came at fall of night,
Commanding beaoon fires to light,
From Wroughton down to Ayebnry.
With hissing squibs and torch in flames,
Each strove to fire the Thames,
And Wiltshire held her racing games,
With most miusual deviky.
« « « « *
But louder still these shouts that rise.
From Wroughton Hills to greet the skies,
And denser yet the crowd that plies,
In Swindon, cheering lustily.
^ There is a life of The Chandler in an old AustraUisian of Gordon's time.
Most likely the poet read it and how the horse won 9k r^^ at Southern
prestbory with Oliver on his back«
282 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
The mA16e thickens, on ye brave.
Past Olliyer's new-mounded gxave.
Wave Swindon ! all thy kerohiefs wave.
From olanging forge and factory."
Oliver had died on January 8^ 1874, not quite four years
after the death of his pupil and ardent admirer Lindsay
Gordon.
Mrs. Austen (the widow of Tom Oliver's son, young
Tom) has given some particulars of her father-in-law's
life. Young Tom Oliver, her late husband, was very hand-
some. Mrs. Turk remembers him when she was a girl;
he used to sit on the wall at Prestbury where his father's
row of loose boxes were and talk to her and her sisters.
She says she spelt his name OUiver. She thinks OUiver
once had an " e " at the end as well.
She said that David Page, of Epsom, a trainer, was
Oliver's uncle and brought him up, and that Black Tom's
ancestors were Spanish smugglers who landed on the south
coast. His father and uncle were farmers and millers, and
lived at Angmering. The uncle was an eccentric old man
and was buried on his own ground not far from Worthily.
Mr. Thomas Coleman first set Tom Oliver going across
country. He lived with Tyxwhitt Jones. He first put
him on a mare and said : ^' Let me see you take her across
three fields straight. I don't see why you shouldn't ride
steeplechases." The Prince Consort admired Oliver's first
mount very much when he came through St. Albans with
Queen Victoria.
Mrs. Austen did not know Tom Oliver in his Prestbury
days. She was a Wroughton girl and married Tom's
handsome son after Oliver had settled in Wroughton in
1858 or 1859. Mrs. Austen has an old sporting paper with
a list of the starters and jockeys for the first Grand National
in 1886, when Captain Becher had the mount on Conrad,
while Oliver rode Seventy-Four and Alan McDonough
The Nun. Becher's Brook got its name that day when
Captain Bech^ was shot into it and scrambled under a
V
'BLACK TOM OLIVER* 288
bank while the rest of the field eleaied him in safety. Jem
Mason on Lottery won in a canter. These were the good
old times when steeplechasing was in the palmiest of its
palmy days. Gay Lad and Peter Simple (well known in
connection with Tom Oliver), The Nun, True Blue, Cigar
and Cannon Ball were all running about then.^
'* Alas ! ** (says Gordon) " neither poet nor prophet
Am I, though a jingler of rhymes —
'Tis a hobby of mine, and I'm off it
At times, and Pm on it at times;
And whether I'm off it or on it,
Your readers my counsels will shun
Since I scarce know Von Tromp from Blue Bonnet,
Though I might know Cigar from the Nun.**
Poor Tom Oliver was always up to his hat in debt and
often emerged from durance vile to ride in a steeplechase
and then return to his stone retreat. Tom Oliver's first
recorded steeplechase was in March 1887, when he failed to
get a place in a sweepstakes at Bath. His first big win took
place at St. Albans, where he rode The Performer in a sweep-
stake of ten sovereigns each. In that race ran Lottery,
ridden for the first time by Jem Mason, who only reached
second place. Midnight came in first, but was disqualified
owing to Barker having ridden under weight. The result
was a great feather in Oliver's cap, but in February 1888 he
was defeated by Lottery with Mason up. The Performer not
even getting a place. The next event in which the two great
rivals engaged was at Dunchurch, where riding Mr.
Marshall's Foreigner, Tom cleverly defeated' The Nun,
ridden by Mason. At the Leamington meeting, March 28,
1858, The Nun was ridden by Mason, there were Jerry,
Vivien, Lottery (with Barker up). The Disowned and
Sportsman (piloted by Oliver). During the race the
excitement was terrific and it was at one time thought that
Sportsman would have overhauled The Nun, but she caught
^ Gordon most likely was referring to well-known Australian horses with
the same names, when he introduoed them into his poems.
* Mentioned in Gordon's Ex Fumo Dare Lueem,
284 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
the judge's eye a length in advance. This was a tremendous
disappointment to Oliver, who was scarcely able to crack a
joke for several days, so deeply was he chagrined at the
result. He rode in and won many other steeplechases till
1842, when he began what may be called his famous career.
Up till 1842 he often rode Mr. Vevers's Charity. Seventy-
Four was another favourite mount. At a memorable
steeplechase at Warwick, Mason on The Nun was pitted
against Seventy-Four with OUver up, but here again the
famous mare carried Jem to victory, much to the dis-
comfiture of Tom Oliver, who panted for his revenge,
which he obtained shortly afterwards at Daventry.
Oliver's first great victory was the Grand National at
Liverpool, in 1842, on Mr. Elmore's Gay Lad. Tom was
" exceedingly jubilant over this victory and in the evening
he told his merriest stories and cracked his best jokes while
the ' sparkling circulated freely.' " In 1848 Tom won his
second National on Vanguard, then an aged horse. Peter
Simple was the favourite and twelve to one against Van-
guard. So well, however, did Oliver handle him that he
won easily. He won many steeplechases in this year, and
among others two with Cheroot (the horse seen in his de-
clining days by Fred Marshall's brother), at Cheltenham
and Newport Pagnell, beating Lottery at the latter place.
Oliver had a busy time of it in '44, '45, '46, riding with
more or less success in the chief races, doing wonders with
the aged Vanguard. It was not until 1852 that he again
won the Liverpool Grand National, which he carried off
upon Peter Simple in superb style. Oliver had ridden
nearly all the best horses of his day, and for twenty years
before his death he had been engaged first as jockey and
then as trainer to Mr. Cartwright. There were, indeed,
few men who knew more about horses than did Tom Oliver.
Beyond his thorough knowledge of horseflesh Tom was
always a pleasant companion, ever willing to do a good turn
for any brother in trouble or distress, with a cheerful word
and smile for everybody. During his long career as a rider
'BLACK TOM OLIVER ' 285
Oliver enjoyed remarkably good health, but in 1878, when
at a ripe old age, he began to fail. Still he was able to
attend to his duties, and was present at Newmarket when
Louise Victoria and George Frederick ran in the Cesarewitch
and Middle Park Plate. But he never left his home after-
wards, and died on January 7, 1874, at his place at Wrough-
ton, near Swindon, highly respected by all who knew him,
just too soon to have the crowning gratification of seeing a
horse which he had trained (George Frederick) win the
Derby itself.
Bailjfs for November 1868 tells how Colonel Knox,
riding with a patience that Tom Oliver might have
envied, won a race at Streatham, and odd numbers of
Baily have many allusions to Black Tom. Baily^s
describes a French jockey's riding thus : '^ His seat was
dreadful to behold and would have made Tom Oliver
kill himself with laughing, for his knees came up to his
nose and he was as loose as an egg on a horse. Still
all he knew about danger was how to spell it.*' In
January 1870, Baily*s records the death of poor Jack
Cheswas, who for many years acted as head lad to Tom
Oliver, and whose mirth-provoking countenance was
well known on all provincial race-courses, where Tom
used to say it always resembled a harvest-moon in
appearance.
" Poor old Tom," soUloquises the " Van Driver ** in
February 1874, *' we wish we could remember half of his
queer sayings, and should have liked a week with him at
Wroughton and got him to tell us his life, it would have
made an amusing volume ; perhaps some one has already
got the nucleus of it. Will Captain Little try his hand ? "
(Captain Little, a disciple of Oliver's, won the National
in 1848 (?) on Chandler.) *^ He ought to know as much
about Black Tom as any man living.''
Oliver's grave is in the pretty little churchyard of
Wroughton, just a turf mound. Oliver, unlike his pupils
Gordon and Stevens, has no gravestone of any sort.
286 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
**Tom Cribb, who had taken his farewell boiefit in
1822 (?) appeared once more in the ring in 1845 and 1846,
when, in his seventy-fourth year, at his own benefit, at
the Westminster baths, he put on the gloves with old
Tom Oliver. It was a tremendous affair; of course the
old man could not spar, but he just showed us the old
guard, with his right hand within a few inches of his face
about the level of his eyes, and his left hand advanced a
little before it and a few inches higher."
CHAPTER XVII
THE STEEPLECHASE RIDERS— GEORGE STEVENS AND
"MR. THOMAS"
1863.
1869.
1870.
Non morUur Cujua Fama viviL
{Front)
In Memory of
GsoBOB Stevens,
who having received fatal
injurieB from a sudden accident
departed this life
at Emblem Cottage, Cleeve Hill,
On the 2nd of June, 1871
In the 38th year of his age,
{Left aide)
His name
Will be inscribed with honor
in the annals of the turf
for his general character
And for his aooomphshed
And successful achievements
And never mentioned without
regret by the patrons of that
National institution.
{Back)
This monument
Raised by a subscription
among the numerous friends
who best knew him is a
slight memorial of his
Virtues and of deep general
and unaffected sorrow
for his loss.
237
288 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
(Bight aide)
The integrity of his prinoiplefl
and the uniform propriety of
his oonduot obtained for him the
confidence of the public and he
enjoyed in no common measure the
respect and esteem of his
employers in the intimacy of
social life his unassumed merit
fine temper and pleasing manners
inspired a general a&otion.
" Aye, Squire," said Stevens, " they back him at
evens," is the opening line of Gordon's most famous poem,
" How We Beat the Favourite."
Tom Oliver really tried to give Stevens and (cordon
and the other lads advice before they rode in steeple-
chases. The elderly worthy who is supposed to have
advised Gordon how to beat the favourite was nineteen
at the most when Gordon sailed for Australia.
" But none can outlast her, and few travel faster.
She strides in her work clean away from the Drag;
You hold her and sit her, she couldn^t be fitter.
Whenever you hit her sheMl spring like a stag,"
said Stevens of Bay Iseult, and he went on —
" And p'raps the green jacket, at odds though they back it,
May fall, or there's no knowing what may turn up.
The mare is quite ready, sit still and ride steady,
Keep cool, and I think you may just win the Cnp.^'
" Some parting injunction bestowed with great unction,"
but Lindsay (xordon was away and did not hear the other
lad's last words of advice. George Stevens, though so
young, was, however, quite an experienced rider and
well qualified to advise the reckless fellow-disciple who sat
with him at Tom Oliver's feet. He had even ridden in
the Grand National of 1852, a year before Gordon sailed
for Australia. Tom Oliver wrote a friend a letter of
advice to be given to Stevens on the eve of the 1870 Grand
National. It is very much like Stevens's advice to Gordon
GeoRCE Stbve;
• tf
• • "» • , -
THE STEEPLECHASE RmERS 289
in the poem, but the mention of The Colonel shows that
it is impossible that Gordon could have had this letter
in his mind when he wrote the poem, and put these words
into (veorge Stevens's mouth. The explanation must be
that Gk>rdon remembered the way Oliver talked, and his
recipe for riding steeplechases.
" Wroughton,
FAruary 9/70.
Dear John,
'^ Nothing can beat The Colonel if he stands on
his legs and he is well on the day.
^'The master means it\ the jockey rides honest and
they have got a good horse. If Stevens lays away from
his horses and not to be interfered with, it will be Uke a
lot of terriers leading a staghoun^ a gallop. The Colonel
is a good horse, the weight is of no consequence when rode
by a man like George Stevens. Give him an old man's
advice and tell him to be Patience and it is a Virtue and
he will win. Tell him it is a long way home from the
last half mile. I have no doubt he will say I am a d — d
old fool, but recollect Old Tom Oliver's words : be cautious
and not to go too soon, the post is the place to win at.
" Yours truly,
" Old Tom Oliver."
Doubtless in this letter Oliver was only repeating advice
he had given Stevens and Gordon when they were mere
boys — yes, ever since the day when he said to the delighted
College boy, " There, now, you yoimg devil, you've rode a
race I "
Oliver rode so well that his liberties with the verb
" to ride " may be pardoned. Stevens apparently did
not need advice to *May away from his horses." His
son says, *^ This my father always did, and evidently the
plan succeeded for he never had a fall in a National." A
writer in Baihfs Magazine says in 1869, *^ It is really a
240 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
wonder that favourites are not, from the fear of being
upset, taken more care of and made to run a patient race.
This was strikingly exemplified in this year's Grand
Nati(Hial, when the winner was brought so quietly along,
while many of the others were tumbling one another
over —
" ' Post equites sedet ater Stevens^ "
Another writer says of this year's National : '* The
Colonel was a model of what a steeplechase horse should be.
George Stevens, who had been waiting patiently, brought
his horse to the front and cantered in alone/'
The horses came on to the race-course for the last time,
followed by The Colonel, who jumped the last hurdle but one
in front of his rivals and then began to leave them.
Certainly Stevens seems to have hardly needed Tom
Oliver's cautious advice, while on Gordon it would
probably often have been completely thrown away, at
least in his youth. Very different were the dispositions
and tactics of Tom Oliver's two famous pupils, two of
the greatest steeplechase riders in the two hemispheres.
In 1870 Stevens won at Aintree on The Colonel. Gordon
most likely heard of his friend's victory before his own
death in June of the same year. '^ G. Holman was a
close second on The Doctor. A finer finish to a steeple-
chase than that between The Colonel and The Doctor was
probably never witnessed." Stevens won by a neck. He
told his Cheltenham friends who saw him off for Liverpool
at the station, that he should win the race ^^ on the post."
Despite this tip some of them put their money on The
Doctor, and they celebrated Stevens's return with much
festivity and somewhat heavy hearts and empty pockets.
The Colonel was considered an "unlucky horse," for
despite his victories he brought (or was supposed to bring)*
misfortune to all who had to do with him. Stevens
holds two records for the Grand National; he was the
only man who ever won it two years in succession on the
THE STEEPLECHASE RIDERS 241
same horse, and that horse was The Colonel. He was also
the only man who ever won it five times.
Within a few months of the last time he rode The
Colonel he died a tragic death. In 1871, a year after his
last victory at Aintree, he rode The Colonel when " Mr.
Thomas ** won on The Lamb. Stevens was cheered when
he appeared on the famous horse. One of The Colonel's
trainers fell over the Wye Cliff near Chepstow and was
killed, another was killed accidentally when riding home
from market. Misfortune, if not death, fell on The Colonel's
owners as well. Stevens himself had a tragic end. The
horse was at last sold to the old Kaiser Wilhelm for a
charger, and the Emperor died soon afterwards, but that
might have been of old age and not of The Cdonel's malign
influence. They tried to train The Colonel up for some
more races after that, but his racing days were over.
Nothing is known of his end. The Colonel was trained
near Chepstow — ^he "disapproved of racing," and never
wanted to start unless he could be persuaded that it was
not a real steeplechase. He was so gentle that he would
lift his feet one at a time and step daintily over a baby
that was put in his way — though this soimds like tempting
Providence. In 1860, when Mr. Pickemell won at Aintree
on Anatis, G^rge Stevens was fourth on Maria Agnes, a
mare that would do nearly anjrthing for him. Stevens
and Mr. Pickemell once made her jmnp over two long
churchwarden pipes which they held with their stems
together in G^eorge Stevens's garden at Shurdington. She
was like a child, and would jump over bits of string and
do almost anything you told her to do. Her rider had
a way with horses always though — he " would Just talk
to them and they would do things." Stevens won his
first National of 1856 on Free Trader, which was trained
by the Holmans of Cheltenham. In 1868 and 1864 he
^on on Lord Coventry's twin mares Emblem and
Emblematic, "the weedy sisters," which were trained
by Mr. Weevey at Bourton on the Hill. This beautiful
E
242 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
village appears in the background of a charming picture
of Stevens on Emblem. Stevens's record of five victories
will probably remain unbeaten as long as the Grand
National exists. He was riding up Cleeve Hill one evening
in June ISTl, when his hat blew off and his startled horse
turned round by the Rising Sun Inn and galloped down
Cleeve Hill at such a pace that the newspapers said that
most likely no other man in England could have kept
in the saddle. Just where the road turns round into
Southam the horse stumbled over a drain-pipe and fell.
Stevens struck his head against a stone and was carried
into a farm near, and afterwards to his home» Emblem
Cottage, where he died the next day without regaining
consciousness. Mr. George Stevens writes : ^^ A. L. G.
and my father were of the same age, both being born in
1888, and both passed away about the same time, the
former in 1870 and the latter in 1871 ; my father died from
a fractured skull (not a broken neck), caused by falling
on a large stone rolled over a drain against the path
within about five feet of the stone in the hedge at Southam.
My father and a Dr. Gregory who Uved in a house opposite
the G.W. Ry. Station and R. Catholic Church, now used, I
believe, as a furniture store, found most of the money for
Jem Edwards's fights, and at one period of his career kept
him hidden away on the banks of the Severn when a
warrant was issued for his arrest for a breach of the peace.
In those days I should imagine that A. L. G. and G. S.
under the tuition of Old Tom Oliver and Dr. Gregory (whom
I remember very well), were what is called now-a-days
*' hot-stuff." It is said that the cob he was riding at the
time of the accident was named The Clown, probably
(in the opinion of Mr. Stevens's son) because he had read
his old friend's poem about Gordon and himself and Bay
Iseult and The Clown. He certainly had read some at
least of Gordon's poems, for one was found among his
papers after his death. It was the ^^ Legend of Cotswold."
*^ You see," said his son, ^^ so many of his old friends are
mentioned in it."
s
in
III
m
in
m
Ml
ill
11
_ • •
• • • • • « •
• • • • • • •
• • • ",* ■ • •
• • • ■ • •
• ' •
• • • •
-.- ::..:;-•.-.•
THE STEEPLECHASE RIDERS 248
Over his grave his friends erected a granite obelisk
with the dates of his victories on it and a laurel wreath,
with the legend " Non moritur Cujus Fama vivit," and
an inscription telling how his name would be *^ inscribed
with honour on the annals of the turf for his general
character and for his accomplished and successful achieve-
ments," and how " the integrity of his principles and
the uniform propriety of his conduct obtained for him
the confidence of the public, and his unassuming merit,
fine temper and pleasing manners, inspired a general
confidence.''
Sad as George Stevens's death was it was an infinitely
happier one than Gordon's. A writer in the Cheltenham
Examiner says : ^^ When I look at the stone at Southam
which marks the place where (^eorge Stevens met with his
fatal accident, I think, with a feeling of regret, how Gordon
would have welcomed a similar fate — but should there
not be some monument to his memory in the town of his
youth ? " Though Stevens died within a year after
Gordon, it is certain that he followed Lindsay's career
with interest, that he read the '^ Legend of Cotswold "
and "' How We Beat the Favourite," and named the last
horse he ever rode after the Favourite in his old friend's
poem.
" Poor George Stevens I " says Lord Coventry. ** An
honester, quieter and more straightforward fellow did not
exist, and his untimely death will create a void in the ranks
of our cross-country jockeys not easily filled. At the late
Cheltenham Meeting, in answer to a question from a
friend as to whether he was to pilot another Grand National
winner, he said, ^ Oh, yes, I have taken a lease for six ' ;
and now his cob bolts with him down Cleeve Hill, and the
' lease ' falls in." He has always been intimately associ-
ated with Cheltenham, and his first great win was in 1856
when he landed his first Grand National on a Cheltenham
horse. Free Trader. Stevens, indeed, took the highest
honours in the profession of his choice, for he won the
Liverpool no less than five times, and did, moreover,
aa
244 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
what no man had ever done before, won it twice on the
same horse, as well as on two occasions twice in succession.
How well he assisted his friend, Mr. Matthew Evans,
whose niece he married, in the management of The Colonel,
the horse's career will testify. Long associated with the
brown and blue of Lord Coventry, his wins with Emblem
(he called his cottage on Cleeve Hill " Emblem Cottage ")
and the following year on Emblematic, were crowning
points in his career. It is well known that on Emblematic's
appearance in her preliminary at Liverpool, she was greeted
with derision, such a wretched-looking weed was she ; and
Stevens, who had never crossed her before, went up to
Weever and bewailed his fate for being on such a " roaring
brute." Weever implored him to ride her according to
instructions, and the result was the hollowest win on
record ; and it was said at the time that the placings should
have been Emblematic (or "the blue mare" as the
Irishmen called her) first. Lord Coventry second, and
Weever third. Before George dismounted to weigh in,
Weever got up and gave him a tremendous slap over the
thigh, inquiring " if she roared now ? " but certainly we
must say, as far as appearances went, George was right
in remonstrating. After Emblematic won, people found
out that she was a wonderful-looking mare (as indeed she
was); but there is no doubt what the public verdict was
before the race. . • . Stevens was as fine a judge of pace
as ever got into the saddle* He loved steeplechasing but
he was not a betting man, was a good husband and father,
saving without parsimony, and a sportsman without stain.
Mrs. Turk remembers Mr. and Mrs. Stevens, and says
" his wife was nearly as keen on horses as he was, and
used to help sometimes with saddling them up."
Mr. George Stevens, junior, says he has heard his mother
speak of Louisa (late Lallah Rookh).
William Archer, Fred Archer's father, must have been
an acquaintance of Gordon's. A horse mentioned in
Gordon's *^ Hippodromania " is named after him, says
Mr. F. Marshalh
THE STEEPLECHASE RmERS 245
Mrs. Wilfred Blacket thinks Mr. Etienne de Mestre had
a jockey named Archer, so the Australian steeplechase
horse of the poem may have been named after him.
Gordon most likely made William Archer's acquaintance
in Prestbury, but he must also have often met him at the
Roebuck, for Archer greatly patronised Jem Edwards's
boxing entertainments.
William Archer won the Grand National of 1858 on
Little Charlie, belonging to Mr. Capel, also a Prestbury
man. He was offered the mount on Free Trader by
Mr. W. Holman in the 1856 Grand National. Archer
scornfully refused to ride the " second string," and young
Stevens rode the horse and won his first Liverpool. In
this race " Tom Oliver got a heavy fall at the brook at
the lower end of the course. William Archer, riding a
patient race, bided his time till close home and won fairly
easily. Archer, who died in December 1889, was bom on
N«w Year's Day, 1826, at St. George's Place, Cheltenham,
When he was only nine years old he had his first mount
on a pony in a hurdle race at Elmstone Hardwicke» near
Cheltenham." His son Fred rode his first race on a pony
in a field near Prestbury Church. The Prestbury people
are never tired of talking about Fred Archer. He, of
course, does not belong to Gordon's generation. The
little boy did not win and came home crying. ^^ William
Archer in his younger days was a competent jockey on
the flat, and after running away from home made his
own living in the Midlands," and won one or two races.
Then he was employed by George Taylor, the father of
Alec Taylor, and " made rapid strides in horsemanship."
Later he went to Russia to ride for the Czar. In 1844
he returned to England and began to ride in hurdle races
and steeplechases. He came back to Cheltenham, where
he rode a great deal for Mr. Holman, and in 1848 he won
a steeplechase on Thurgarton, beating Tom Oliver on his
own horse Vanguard. He was also second on Daddy
Long Legs in the great Knoverton Steeplechase which
Mr. William Holman won on Stanmore (which was
246 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Gordon's steeplechase in ** How We Beat the Favourite **).
^^ William Archer's eldest son, who was named after him,
was killed at the Cheltenham Steeplechases in 1878, while
in 1862 Archer pfere gave up riding steeplechases, his
last mount being on Mr. G. Taylor's Yaller Gal. When
Fred Archer was in the height of his fame he used to stay
with his father, who then had the hotel at Andoversford,
and hunt with the Cotswold hounds. <
Bob James, who still lives in Prestbury, used to be in
Tom Oliver's employment there. In 1856 James was third
at Aintree on Minos, and in 1857 he was third on Maurice
Daley. He is said to be the second oldest living rider in the
Grand National. In 1858 at the last Cheltenham Meeting
before Gordon s€uled for Australia, James rode Mr. Oliver's
Telegraph in the Berkeley Hunt Steeplechase. This was
the race in which Lallah Rookh (late Louisa) ran and was
disquaUfied because her unknown jockey, probably Gordon^
had not been weighed. James possesses a portrait of and
a lively interest in Gordon's friend, Mr. Pickemell, who
seems to share one of the high niches in his mind usually
allotted to horses.
Of Tom Pickemell, Baily^s Magaziney 1872, says in
" Our Van " : " The pleasant face of him who is known to
newspaper readers as ^ Mr. Thomas,' looks out from the
title-page in this number, and recalls many an exciting
struggle over country and on the flat, from the time
when in 1857 he brought out Tom Moodie for a steeple-
chase at Shrewsbury, and training and riding him himself,
then and there made his mark as the rising gentleman-
jockey of the day. Mr. Pickemell, who was bom in 1884
and received his education at Cheltenham College, may be
said to have begun his racing career in Tasmania, whither
when quite a youngster he went in 1852, but it was at
Shrewsbury that he won his spurs, at least in this country ;
and so highly was his performance on Tom Moodie — a
terrific puller and to ride whom Mr. Pickemel had worked
very hard indeed — estimated that Isaac Day was most
THE STEEPLECHASE RIDERS 247
anxious to secure his services as gentleman-rider for his
stable ; and he was fortunate in so doing. Though he rode
often on the flat in those days, and does still, yet steeple-
chasing has always been his passion and the branch of
sport ¥irith which his name is most associated. His early
friends and confederates were Sir E. Hutchinson and Mr.
Capd, and while riding for them he won the Liverpool in
1862, on that beautiful mare Anatis. In 1868 he married,
and partially gave up the sport, but the old passion was
too strong, and in 1866 we find him carrying all before
him at the Liverpool Autiunn, winning all three steeple-
chases and, after breaking his stirrup-iron at Becher's
Brook, on Sprite, beating George Stevens on Balder by
a neck. Our space will not allow us to follow Mr. Picker-
nell through his long and honourable career. He has
made his mark in many lands. He has come down the
bank at Baden more times than we can remember, he
knows the double and the * head's garden ' at Punches-
town by heart, and wherever on French soil there has been
jumping, there has * Tom ' been found. His recent
second win of the Grand National on The Lamb, and how
we always look for him since poor George Ede's death in
the * cerise and blue ' of Lord Poulett, we need scarcely
refer to here. He is, no doubt, the best gentleman-rider
of the day ; his judgment imsurpassed, his nerve unfailing,
his finishing powers of the highest order. He has, however,
other and better qualifications than these; his thoroughly
manly, straightforward character, his genial bonhomie
and kindness of disposition, have made him a valued
friend, a much sought-f or companion, a imiversal favourite.
And he has trod the not always very clean paths of sporting
life without a speck on his honour or a stain on his name."
George Stevens's son writes of Mr. PickemeU : " I
foimd he has a wonderful memory for things that occurred
long ago ; he saw a good deal of A. L. G. in 1849 and 1850,
but never knew that he rode in any races ; he said Gordon's
great delight was to go anywhere where he could get some
248 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
boxing, and it did not matter who he encountered. It is
a remarkable fact that my father and these two young
sparks were aU bom in 1888. T. P. won his first National
in I860, the year my father rode Maria Agnes; he re-
membered that mare and the incident of jumping her over
the pipes at Shurdington at once, without me refreshing
his memory,"
Mr, Pickemell (" Mr. Thomas "), though not a Prestbury
man, spent his younger days in Cheltenham and was,
like Grordon, a Day boy at the College. He often used to
come to Prestbury in his steeplechasing days and won
one of his victories at Aintree on a Prestbury horse,
Mr. Capd's Anatis. Mr. Capel, indeed, was one of his
greatest friends, and he often stayed with him.
Mr. Pickemell says he ^^ remembers nothing about
Gordon's riding," it was news to him that Gordon had
ever been on horse's back (in their days at Cheltenham).
After he left the College in 1852, Mr. Pickemell's relations
sent him out to Tasmania (of all places in the world I)
to cure him of his love of sport, especially of steeplechase
riding. Was it after this that Gordon did most of his
riding at home ? Mr. William Holman and Tom Oliver
taught Mr. Pickemell to ride, and he used to go out
hunting with Tom Oliver.
The Cheltenham College Register thus records the history
of Gordon's friend, the College's other great steeplechase
rider —
^^ Thomas Pickemell, son of Thomas Pickemell, Esq.,
Hatherly Lodge, Cheltenham, bom Brd September^ 1884.
Day boy."
Went to Tasmania in 1852, where he remained some
years. Subsequently well known as a gentleman-jockey
in England, and always rode as ''Mr. Thomas." Has
twice (now three times) won the Grand National Steeple-
chase at Liverpool, in 1860 on Anatis, and in 1871 on The
Lamb (and in 1875 on Pathfinder).
Mr, Pickemell (writing %q Mis$ Humphris) says : *' I
THE STEEPLECHASE RIDERS 249
have heaid nothing of my old friend since about. I848-5I9
but had the enclosed " (a photograph of Gordon's grave)
^' sent me from Melbourne which may be useful to you.
'^ I am sorry and afraid I can't help you much about
GU>rdon, as although we were the greatest friends as young
men at the College, when I left there I went to * far-off '
Tasmania and heard nothing more of him until his death."
It is, however, the time when Gordon was at College and
in Cheltenham about which is known least. It will be
noted that Mr. Pickemell does not allude to the fact that
Gordon went to Australia a few months after himself,
and was for some years only separated from him by the
narrow streak of water between Tasmania and the
mainland. *' Mr. Thomas " lived chiefly near Launceston
while he was in Tasmania.
Mr. Pickemell was in Hobart in the old days ^^ when
it was Hobart Toumf when there were no railways and no
tramsy only a coach by which you travelled from Hobart
to Laimceston." Though his imde had sent him out
there to cure him of his love of horses he said it was '' bred
in the bone," for his father also rode and owned steeple*
chase horses. Mr. Pickemell rode and won his first race
in Tasmania, and thereafter won so many that the Hobart
professional jockeys sent him a petition asking this
amateur to ^^ desist from his pleasures, as he was taking
the professionals' living away." When Mr. Pickemell
returned to England the hair of the dog that bit him had
fairly inoculated him with the steeplechasing virus. He
won no end of steeplechases, and among them three Grand
Nationals; and when his uncle found that the famous
" Mr. Thomas " was his nephew — ^well, it seriously inter-
fered with the yoimg rider's prospects, financially, at any
rate. Mr. Pickemell has a book called his scrap-book,
which he says he began to keep in Tasmania, and which
has become a sort of running commentary aa his career.
He rode seventeen times in the Grand National, and
from 1859 to 1877 he did not miss a year except 1863
250 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
and 1864.^ He was fifth on Anatis in 1859, thiid on
Shangarry in 1867, fourth on The Lamb in 1871, with the
weight of twelve stone seven pounds, and, on The Liberator
he also was third. This with three wins is the record of
a man who is said to know the Grand National course
better than any one else.
When Mr. Piekemell won at Aintree on The Lamb, he
almost exactly fulfilled a dream of the horse's owner.
Lord Poulett. In his scrap-book he has Lord Poulett's
letter asking him to ride for him.
'' Thuraday night,
'' December 15, ISIO.
" My dear Tommy,
^' Let me know for certain if you can ride for
me at Liverpool on The Lamb. I dreamt twice last night
I saw the race run. The first dream he was last and
finished among the carriages. The second dream — ^I
should think an hour afterwards — I saw the Liverpool
run. He won four lengths, and you rode him and I stood
above the winning post at the turn. I saw the cerise
and blue sleeves, and you, as plain as I write this. Now
let me know as soon as yt)u can, and say nothing to any
one.
" Yours sincerely,
" Poulett."
The Lamb, like The Colonel, seems to have given the
superstitious folk food for thought. He fulfilled this
dream of Earl Poulett's, and just as a train reached
Liverpool, taking people to see the Grand Nationali
a little lamb jumped out of a truck and ran away down
the line. Several passengers backed The Lamb to win
on the strength of this. Also, like The Colonel, he was
" unlucky " to some of those connected with him. Ben
Land, his trainer, committed suicide. Mr. George Ede
^ Table Bupplied by Mr. Piokernell.
J
THE STEEPLECHASE RIDERS 251
(Land's favourite pupil), The Lamb's first jockey» was
killed in the Sefton Steeplechase, and The Lamb himself
broke his leg at Baden-Baden in 1872, and had to be
destroyed. It is said of this 1872 steeplechase, ^^ At no
previous Grand National, perhaps, was there a scene of
greater enthusiasm " ; and it appeared as though that
popular amateur horseman, ^' Mr. Thomas,*' would have
been dragged from the saddle. The Lamb was almost
carried into the enclosure by the crowd, and so tightly was
he wedged in that he had no room to kick had he deemed
fit to do so.
In the race The Lamb jumped some fallen horses,
hopping *^ over them like a cat," as Mr. Pickemell ex-
pressed it. " The finest fencer I was ever on in my life."
In 1875 '^ Mr. Thomas's " success on Pathfinder was
quite unexpected by most people, as ^* prior to his coming
into the possession of Mr. Bird,^ the horse's performances
had been moderate in the extreme; but he managed to
win the Leicestershire steeplechase in the hands of * Mr.
Thomas,' who on this occasion took part in the Grand
National for the fifteenth time, and for the third time rode
the winner. A finer or more exciting finish has seldom
been seen in a Grand National."
"" Pathfinder changed hands for £100; and not long
before the Grand National had been beaten at Bristol."
** * Mr. Thomas ' was fond of Pathfinder, we think," says
a writer in Bcdly^s Magazine^ *^and indeed, made no
secret of his belief that the horse would run much better
than at Bristol, where he had to make his own running
and race with everything."
The winner won by sheer gameness on his part, and fine
riding on the part of his jockey.
After riding in seventeen Grand Nationals, **Mr.
Thomas " has shown us that, though the years have crept
on since he was on Anatis, his nerve and judgment were
^ Mr. Thomas waa really riding Pathfinder for Gordon's kinsman. Lord
Hnntly, thoagh entered in Mr. Bird's name.
252 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
never better than they are now. His finishes lately have
been most brilliant — ^witness those at Worcester and Rugby
— and he put the crown on them to-day.
A very extraordinary thing about the victory of Anatis
in 1860, was that the mare had not jumped a fence for
a year before she won the Liverpool. At the finish of this
race Huntsman, on whom Captain Towneley had been
riding a most patient race, gradually drew up to Anatis
until at the last hurdle the pair were neck and neck.
Then came an exciting struggle between the two, but
^^ Mr. Thomas " called on Anatis, the mare eventually
winning by half a length. Li this race George Stevens
rode his favourite Maria Agnes, but on nearing the last
hurdle into the straight, her rider, finding her unequal to
the task of joining the first three horses, pulled her up.
Mr. Pickemell says his victory on Pathfinder was the
hardest of his three Nationals, as he had to hold him up,
and this he had not to do with The Lamb or Anatis.
One of his most exciting steeplechases was the Sefton
one, when he beat George Stevens on Balder by a neck.
"' Mr. Thomas " was on The Sprite. Balder and The Sprite
were together at Becher's Brook when Mr. Pickemell
'^ felt something go," reached down and caught the leather
and saved a broken stirrup, and rode home with it in his
hand. ^' You see," he said, ^^ as I sat down to beat
George Stevens, to the stand occupants it probably — as
was reported in the papers at the time — appeared that I
was triumphantly flourishing the iron." He went on to
say he was not doing this, but riding as if for his life with
both hands as he always did in times of emergency, because
he never used a whip except as a last resource.
Li 1877 Mr. Pickemell was given up for dead — after
an accident in a flat race at Sandown Park. He was
terribly smashed up, but recovered remarkably quickly.
Mr. Pickemell lives at King's Heath near Birmingham.
He has some pictures of his father on one of his steeplechase
horses, and an old jockey Arthur on the other. Both are
THE STEEPLECHASE RIDERS 258
by Woodward of Worcester, and bear the dates 1820 and
1822. His father was ninety-two when he died. It is
a pity that Gordon and the cheery Tom Pickemdl never
met again after they left Cheltenham College, though at
one time in their lives little more than Bass's Strait lay
between them. It would have been so good for the home-
sick Stockrider, at any rate, if they could have met;
besides, they said Gordon never could find people good
enough to box with in his later years.
** Mr. Thomas '* (Mr. Tom Pickemell), says a writer in
BaihfSy ^^ seemed for some time to be a link between the
past and the present. He has ridden three Grand National
winners and had a mount in no less than eighteen Liver-
pools. Anatis, The Lamb and Pathfinder were all steered
most brilliantly by this gentleman to victory; the latter
in 1875. Pathfinder had been used as a hack and a whip's
horse before trying his luck at Liverpool, and he was one
of the worst horses that ever won. A short time after
this Mr. Thomas got a fall at Sandown, which seriously
affected his eyesight and rendered his retirement from the
saddle imperative. His second winner, The Lamb, was
probably as good as, if not better than, any previous
winner of the event. As a clever jumper, few have ever
equalled him, and he showed this with a vengeance when
he cleared four prostrate horses and their riders without
touching one of them while running at Aintree."
CHAPTER XVIII
AN INTRODUCnON TO GORDON AS A POET»
Beyond dispute Gordon is the national poet of Australia.
In Victoria and South Australia nearly every family owns
Gordon's poems, and they are better known than any
English poet's are known in England. And rightly,
because Gordon is the voice of Australia. But for
him Australian literature would be less loyal than it is
to the Old Country. For all Australians respect a man
who was so much after their own heart, who would stand
up to anybody with his fists, or put a horse at anything ;
who loved the bush like a home and extorted the admira-
tion of all bushmen; who founded Australia's school of
grim fatalism ; who voiced Australia's code of honour.
Adam Lindsay Gordon was the national poet of Australia
not only because he was a real poet, and wrote living
poetry about the romantic old colonial days when
Australia was in the making, but because he was a typical
example of the fine strain which gave the Australian people
its greatest qualities.
It has sometimes been assumed by European writers
that, because three of the Colonies possessed convict
stations, the Australian population contains no leaven of
good blood. The opposite is the case. The native-bom
working man is often the descendant of noble or squire.
For in the piping ^' 'fifties," the decade which saw English-
men shake off the sloth of the long peace of fifty years
which followed Waterloo, and show the bulldog breed in
the Crimea and the Mutiny, the yoimger sons of peers and
country gentlemen, instead of going to shoot lions in
^ By DougUu 8ladm only.
254
GORDON AS A POET 255
Central Af ria or going to court death in learning to be the
navigators of the air, went to Australia.
The gold fields were their first attraction. Rich alluvial
deposits, where one may dig up a fortune with one's own
hands and may have to defend it with one's life, have an
irresistible fascination for the adventurous. And, when that
fascination was on the wane for them, they took up vast
tracts in the Bush for grazing purposes where the rent was
really paid in risks, since they paid less money per annum
for two thousand acres than they paid for a single stock-
rider. There were many sanguinary battles between
lonely households and the blacks in the early days of
squatting, and many deaths occurred from the want of
communications and medical aid. But the younger sons
of the country gentry flocked to Australia to be squatters,
though no due proportion of their descendants is to be
found in Australia among the squatters — ^the owners of
flocks and herds of to-day. For those who succeeded
mostly sold out when they had made a fortime and went
back to buy places in the Old Country.
We are more concerned with those who failed, for it was
they who leavened the manhood of Australia. Whether
they failed from want of training for the Colonial life, or
from drunkenness brought on by hard work in terrific
heat, they were absorbed by the working class. They
and their children married into the working class and their
descendants have proved some of the best stock in Aus-
tralia. Sometimes they won their way back to wealth.
I have no need to tell Australians the names of the two
millionaire partners in the last generation who were grand-
sons of British o£Gicers and sons of common labourers. We
are not concerned with this class.
We are concerned with the general body of the native-
bom Australians, who owe their braininess and their
adventurousness and their genius for sport to the plentiful
admixture in their veins of the best blood in the Old
Country, crossed with more practical strains, just aci we get
256 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
the best oranges and the best roses by grafting choice
varieties on to sturdy ordinary trunks.
Adam Lindsay Gordon, the National poet of Australia,
was a typical specimen of the well-bom man who becomes
absorbed into the ranks of labour when he settles in
Australia. He lived to be head of the ancient family of
the Gordons of Hallhead and Esslemont, though his
predecessor had terminated the entail diverting the
estates ^ to a niece. He, through his great-grandmother,
Lady Henrietta Gordon, and the Hon. Sir Arthur
Gordon, whoijn Australians remember as Governor of New
Zealand, were both descendants of the second Earl of
Aberdeen. His mother's small fortime would have been
immense, but for the ruin of the West Lidies by the
abolition of slavery. Instead of using his introductions
and family influence to be appointed to a Government
clerkship, when he landed in Australia, he enlisted in the
South Australian Mounted Police, and that was the
beginning of his career of manual work and adventure,
From policeman he became horse-breaker, if never actually
a stockrider, and from horse-breaker (after a brief period as
a member of Parliament, squatter and racehorse-owner,
while he was dissipating the £7,000 which came out to him)
he became a livery-stable keeper, the chief amateur steeple-
chase-rider of Australia, and the chief poet. He might
have enjoyed the most brilliant literary career any man
ever had in Australia, if he had allowed himself to go on
living, for he had graduated in the only school for which
the Australian people of his day had a sincere respect —
the school of horsecraft.
He began his steeplechasing as soon as he left the
police force, at any rate riding in every steeplechase within
distance where his weight would allow him, and he rode
his last fatal race, in which he was so injured, only three
months before his death. In spite of his increasing
^ It was the deoision of the lawyers against him in the matter of this
saocession which led to Gordon's despairing suioide.
if
••: •••
• • • • • •
• • • •
GORDON AS A POET 257
difficulties he owned racehorses tiU ISOO, and he went on
training till the end. No doubt training his own horses was
an element in his success as a steeplechase rider, for he knew
every ounce, every inch of whidi the animal was capable.
But his chief elements of success were his judgment,
his iron nerve, and his magic influence over horses. Old
Tom Oliver and George Stevens, two of the most notable
winners in the Grand National at Liverpool, had ground it
into Gordon as a boy that there is plenty of time to win
in a steeplechase, that the main thing to do is to keep
your horse on all four legs, while the other horses are
weeding themselves out at the jumps. His pet theory was
to let a horse take its own time at the jumps. He had a
marvellous capacity for getting the last ounce out of the
animal in the run home — and he never lost his nerve. His
sketches of steeplechasing, i^atever their shortcomings in
draughtsmanship, are universally admired by sporting men.
As a police-trooper he had been noted for his reckless
daring; as a horsebreaker and rider of buck- jumpers his
name was a proverb for courage and skill. He was ready
to meet any man in Australia, no matter what his size,
with his fists, and generally came off victorious^ for he was
the favourite pupil of the famous Earywig (Jem Edwards),
and had often had the gloves on with the great Tom Sayers
himself.
He had done, too, a deal of camping out in the bush when
it was a forest primeval, though we have no record of his
having had any fighting with the blacks, and though there
is apparently no foundation for the story of his earning a
Government reward of £500 for killing a noted bushranger.
When, therefore, Gordon was writing of the wild life of
the old colonial days he was writing of a subject which
no one knew better than himself. The author of the
" Sick Stockrider '' had spent long years in the society of
stockriders, when he was a horse-breaker, going from station
to station ; most authorities except Mr. F. Vaughan are
agreed that he did the ride from the Wreck to fetch assist-
8
268 ADAM LINDSAY GOBDON
ance himself; there are people yet who believe that he
killed his bushranger in a cave before he wrote '^Wolf
and Hound " ; the author of '* How we Beat the Favourite''
was the most famous steeplechase-rider in Australia.
Whence he got his poetical gift is another matter.
There is nothing to show this except that he and Byron
stand in about the same degree to the original Gordon of
Gicht. We can only guess that it was begotten in solitude
by his love of reciting the best models of poetry with which
he was acquainted.
From a boy he had done this. When he went to see
Tom Oliver^ the old trainer and jockey, at Prestbury, he
not only went to get ¥ninkle8 about riding and learn the
nature of horses ; he used to recite his favourite pieces of
poetry to Old Tom, who loved to hear him do it though all
witnesses are agreed that his reciting was very monotonous.
And when he went to see Jane Bridges, the beautiful girl
he loved in England, who could have stopped him going to
Australia if she had raised her little finger, he used to
recite to her, not only other people's pieces but his own.
And she used to ad vise him what poems of the great masters
he ought to study and recite. I think I am right in saying
that she suggested to him those studies of Browning which
had such an important influence on him. It is an odd
thing that Gordon of all people should have been one of
the first poetical disciples of Browning. But ** From the
Wreck,'? " No Name,'? " Ex Fumo Dare Lucem," not to
mention other poems, are clearly inspired by Browning.
Tenison Woods, the Roman Catholic priest in the Penola
district, used to lend him Homer and Horace, Swinburne and
Browning, though good books were worth their weight in
silver in the Australia of those days, and Gordon thumbed
his books to pieces. Gordon carried them about in his
pocket, and studied them when he got the chance on his
long rides, and every night by the dim light of a sludge
lamp. He had wonderful eyesight for reading small
print in a bad light, though he was so short-sighted that no
GORDON AS A POET 259
honest doctor could ever have passed him for the Anny,
for which his temperament so fitted hun.
With these models before him he beguiled his time, during
his long lonely rides in the bush» by casting his own re-
flections on the rough and tumble of life into poems whose
rough-hewn eloquence has never been surpassed. Tradition
says that he sang his poems in his head as he was writing
them to the rhythm made by his horse's hoofs. On long
rides bushmen ride very slowly unless they are driven for
time. He found another incentive to composition in
lying on the cliffs above the sea listening and looking.
Here again there was rhythm to accompany his thoughts.
His very best poems were written while he reclined on a
natural couch formed by the boughs of an old gum-tree
near the house of the friend who was providence to him,
and would certainly, had he known, have cleared away
the money troubles which led to his suicide, the late John
Riddoch. Here again he had rhythm and to spare, the
shrilling of importunate and innumerable tree-crickets.
His reflective powers were fed by a steady recourse to his
old day pipe.
It is not hard to picture him composing — ^a typical bush-
man with his tall, lean, stooping figure, short beard bleached
by the sim, and dark weather-beaten, resolute face under
a big cabbage-tree hat ; dressed for the most part in a
Crimean shirt, well-fitting cord breeches and top boots —
always neat, always carrying the stamp of his birth upon
him, for those who were familiar with the appearance of a
gentleman.
From his boyhood he had had a dreamy, far-away look
in his weird eyes,^ which meant that his thoughts were
turned inwards. General T. B. Strange, R.A., noticed it
when they were both cadets together at the Royal Military
Academy at Woolwich. This look in his eyes seems to
have struck all his Australian friends.
^ Some of the people who notioed his eyes so partioalarly say that they
wen blue, and some say they were dork grey.
82
260 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
One thing cannot fail to attract notice, that all these
poems, which are so full of the open air in their atmosphere,
were composed out of doors. They were only copied out
indoors. Some may have been jotted down on odd scraps
of paper, but for a man with a verbal memory like Gordon's
it would have been no effort to c(»npose a poem and carry
it in his head for some time before he wrote it down. I
have never heard if Gordon knew his own poems by heart.
But he certainly knew the whole of Macaulay's Lays of
Ancient Borne by heart, and he could spout prodigious
quantities of Scott, Byron, Browning, and Swinburne —
not to mention Horace, Virgil, Ovid and Homer.
The fact stands out that these poems which are so
redolent of the bush were written in the bush by one who
made the bush his life. Their background is full of the
broad effects which would have been his atmosphere to a
short-sighted man who spent his life in the bush. But
his bad eyesight prevented him from filling in details of
the foreground. The country round Mount Gambier with
its lakes and floods must have been full of snakes : Gordon
hardly mentions them. He mentions a few trees» the
various Gums, the Wattle, the Blackwood, the She-oak,
the Tea-tree and the Honeysuckle, but hardly any flowers
except the Wattle and Tea-tree blossoms. He has nothing
to say about the resplendent parakeets which are gayer than
the flowers in Australia, and are found there by millions,
or about huge birds like the Emu, the Wild Swan, the
Giant Crane, the Pelican, and the Bustard.
A few times he mentions the dingo or wild-dog, and
the Eagle-hawk, but never, or hardly ever, the innumerable
opossums, wild cats and native bears. He has very little
to say about any lizards, though they come next in
numbers after the ants, and nothing about the enormous
iguana. Even the corn-grower's curse, the great white
cockatoo which comes down in flocks that whiten a field
and sweep it bare like locusts, hardly crosses our vision.
Gk>rdon made his bush effects with bushmen — he used
GORDON AS A POET 261
little else except sounds, light and darkness, heat and
shade.
And this method has great advantages, because it makes
his poems truly dramatic lyrics — ^not musings about still
life, scenery or natural history, like so many forest poems,
even KendalPs. The Kendall method produces the better
poetry, and more good writers, but the world at large will
always be more interested in dramatic lyrics, and personally
I think that Gordon, with his literary offspring Rudyard
Kipling, stand at the very top of the tree in this form of
writing. I do not of course claim for them the technical
finish of the great masters of poetic style, but Browning
achieved his fame without any respect for perfection of
metre and vocabulary. And both Gordon (who could recite
Browning by the page) and Mr. Kipling have a splaidid
and haunting swing, and have swept into the net of poetry
a miraculous draught of expressions and experiences of
common life. Gordon gave the bushman and the jockey
his halo of poetry, Mr. Kipling laid it on the head of Tommy
Atkins (the descendant of the archers of Crecy and Poic-
tiers), the engineer, the merchant seaman, and the flotsam
of Empire. These two have put the theories of Walt
Whitman into a more .articulate form. They have sung
in ringing ballads the struggles of the men who lead hard
and dangerous lives in their everyday round. Their
song is always of battle, though their battles are not always
those of knights in mail, or clashing armies. They are
the poets of action.
The curious feature in the matter is that Gordon, much
the more classical of the two in language and subject,
led a wild bush life, while Mr. Kipling has always written
as an observer, not drawing on his own experiences. It is
his genius which has enabled him to put himself inside the
minds of his heroes. It is on him that the mantle of
Gordon, the laureate of the brave, has fallen, rather than on
the writers of bush ballads, who are spoken of as the School
of Gordon.
262 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
The most tsrpical of GU>idon's disciples in Australia was
poor Morant, ^' The Breaker." Reckless, as Gordon himself
in Ogilvie's poem —
*' Wild fearlefls horseman I with a reckless rein.
Riding at Fate's big fences unafraid.
Holding the phantom rider in disdain,
And fretting only for his call delayed.**
There were wonderful tales of Morant^ how he jumped
his horse for a bet over a gigantic wall and landed
safely in the gaol-yard up country somewhere, and tales
of other equaUy hare-brained performances. He was
always something of a mystery, evidently a Public School
and University man, but his sparse accounts of his life in
the Old Country varied considerably, perhaps out of con-
sideration to his people. He went to South Africa at the
time of the Boer War and became a lieutenant in a locally
raised regiment. He and some other officers and men
found their captain dead with his eyes gouged out by the
Boers — ^so they said, anyway. They seized the Boers at
that farm, held a drum-head court martial, and themselves
shot the men they considered guilty. Morant took
all the responsibility, but he could not save two of his
inferior officers — ^though one or two others got off with
penal servitude. Morant and his two comrades were shot
in the gaol-yard at Pretoria. He refused to have his eyes
bandaged, ^* holding the phantom rider in disdain.*' Per-
haps it was only discipline to shoot them — ^but the pity
of it!
I have found plenty of beautiful writing in the works of
those whom we call the school of Gordon, but I have found
nothing to equal Kendall in his moments of inspired
simplicity like ** After many years " or Gordon in " The
Sick Stockrider," which is the best poem of its kind in the
language. It is very beautiful, its choice of metre is
instinctively just; it is terse, presenting a great picture
with few superfluous details ; and the genius of Australia
sits brooding over every line, for it is the Bushman's
Requiem. All through it we hear the voice of manhood
GORDON AS A POET 268
which has borne the burden and heat of a warrior's day,
and now, sorely stricken, is waiting for death with the
dignity of the Dying Gladiator of the Capitol. It is a
wonderful piece of painting ; no poem that was ever written
could more truly be called a picture. And, above all,
it has the qualities of Sir Arthur Sullivan's ^^ The Lost
Chord.'* That song is simple and popular in its materials,
but no matter how large or how varied the assemblage
which is listening when it is played, every heart in the
assemblage is lifted up and filled with a flood of feeling not
far from tears. If Gordon had only written '' The Sick
Stockrider " he would have been secure of immortality.
Here is the best of it.
(Extract from " The Sick Stockrider ")
** Hold hard, Ned ! lift me down once more, and lay me in the shade.
Old man, you've had your work cut out to guide
Both horses, and to hold me in the saddle when I sway'd.
All through the hot, slow, sleepy, silent ride.
The dawn at * Moorabinda * was a mist rack dull and dense.
The sunrise was a sullen, sluggish lamp;
I was dozing in the gateway at Arbuthnot's boundary fence,
I was dreaming on the Limestone cattle camp.
We crossed the creek at Garricksford, and sharply through the haze,
And suddenly the sun shot flaming forth;
To southward lay *' KaiAwa," with tlie sandpeaks all ablase.
And the flush'd fields of Glen Lomond lay to north.
Now westward winds the bridle path that leads to lindisfann.
And yonder looms the double-headed Bluff;
From the far side of the first hill, when the skies are clear and calm.
You can see Sylvester's woolshed fair enough.
Five miles we used to call it from our homestead to the place
Where the big tree spans the roadway like an arch;
'Twas here we ran the dingo down that gave us such a chase
Eight years ago— or was it nine 7 — ^last March.
'Twas merry in the glowing mom, among the gleaming grass.
To wander as we've wander'd many a mile.
And blow the cool tobacco cloud, and watch the white wreaths
passy
Sittmg loosely in the saddle all the while.
'Twas merry 'mid the blackwoods when we spied the station roofs.
To wheel the wild scrub cattle at the yard.
With a running fire of stockwhips and a fiery run of hoofs;
Oh 1 the hardest day was never then too hard I
264 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Aye I we had * glorioiu gallop after ' Starlight * and his gang.
When they bolted from Sylvester's on the flat;
How the sun-dried reed>beds orackled, how the flint-strewn range*
rang
To the strokes of 'Mountaineer* and 'Acrobat.*
Hard behind them in the timber, harder still across the heath,
Gose beside them through the tea-tree scrub we dash'd;
* And the golden-tinted fern leaves, how they rustled underneath !
And the honeysuckle osiers, how they crash'd !
Aye I nearly all our comrades of the old colonial school.
Our ancient boon companions, Ned, are gone;
Hard livers for the most part, somewhat reckless as a rule.
It seems that you and I are left alone.
Ah ! those days and nights we squandered at the Logans' in the GUen —
The Logans, man and wife, have long been dead.
Elsie's tallest girl seems taller than your little Elsie then;
And Ethel is a woman grown and wed.
Fve had my share of pastime, and I've done my share of toil.
And life is short — ^the longest life a span;
I care not now to tarry for the com or for the oil.
Or for the wine that maketh glad the heart of man.
For good undone and gifts misspent and resolutions vain,
'Tis somewhat late to trouble. This I know —
I should live the same life over, if I had to live again;
And the chances are I go where most men go.
The deep blue skies wax dusky, and the tall green trees grow dim.
The sward beneath me seems to heave and fall;
And sickly, smoky shadows through the sleepy sunlight swim.
And on the very sun's face weave their pall.
Let me slumber in the hollow where the wattle blossoms wave.
With never stone or rail to fence my bed;
Should the sturdy station children pull the bush flowers on my grave,
I may chance to hear them romping overhead.'
la
" The Sick Stockrider " is Australia's " Scholar Gipsy,"
not so purely poetical as Matthew Arnold's, not perhaps a
greater poem, but secure of reaching a hundred hearts
where the Oxford poem reached one.
The concluding lines of '^ The Sick Stockrider '' read as if
Gordon had written them as an epitaph for himself ; indeed,
many would like to see them engraved on the brokoi
GORDON AS A POET 266
column with a laurel wreath which marks his resting place
amid the wild flowers which make the North Brighton
Cemetery (near Melbourne) an exquisite rus in urbe.
I am ready to acknowledge that "" The Sick Stockrider "
stands far above Gordon's other work in the same line —
" The Ride from the Wreck," and " Wolf and Hound "—
his only other tjrpically bush poems, though " Gone/* the
Dedication to Whyte Melville, and a few others deal with
the subject. Here is one of the best passages in ^' From
the Wreck "—
i(
In the low branches heavily laden with dew.
In the long grasses spoiling with deadwood that day.
Where the blaokwood, the box, and the bastard oak grew,
Between the tall gum-trees we gallop'd away —
We orash'd through a brush fence, we splash'd through a swamp —
We steered for the north near * the Eaglehawk's Nest ' —
We bore to the left, just beyond * the Red Camp,'
And round the black tea-tree belt wheel'd to the west —
We oross'd a low range thickly scented with musk
From wattle-tree blossom — we skirted a marsh —
Then the dawn faintly dappled with orange the dusk.
And pealM overhead the jay's laughter note harsh.
And shot the first sunstreak behind us, and soon
The dim dewy uplands, were dreamy with light;
And full on our left flashed 'The Reedy Lagoon,'
And sharply ' the Sugarloaf * rear'd on our right.
A smothered curse broke through the bushman's brown beard.
He turn*d in his saddle, his brick-colour'd cheek
Flnsh'd feebly with sundawn, said, 'Just what I fear'd;
Last fortnight's late rainfall has flooded the creek**
Black Bolingbroke snorted, and stood on the brink
One instant, then deep in the dark, sluggish swirl
Plunged headlong. I saw the horse suddenly sink.
Till round the man's armpits the wave seem'd to curh
We foilow*d—one cold shock, and deeper we sank
Than they did, and twice tried the landing in vain.
The third struggle won it, straight up the steep bank
We staggered, then out on the skirts of the plain.
The stockrider^ Alec, at starting had got
The lead, and had kept it throughout; Hwas his boast
That through thickest of scrub he could steer like a shot,
And the black horse was counted the best on the coast.
266 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
The mare had been awkward enough in the dark,
She waa eager and headstrong, and barely half -broke;
She had had me too close to a big stringy-bark.
And had made a near thing of a crooked she-oak;
But now on the open, lit up by the mom.
She flung the white foam-flakes from nostril to neck.
And chased him — ^I hatless, with shirtsleeTeB all torn
(For he may ride ragged who ridee from a wreck) —
And faster and faster across the wide heath
We rode till we raced. Then I gave her her head.
And she — stretching out with the bit in her teeth —
She caught him, outpaced him, and passed him, and led.
We neared the new fence; we wero wide of the track;
I look'd right and left — she had never been tried
At a stiff leap. 'Twas little he cared on the black.
' Touhre more than a mile from the gateway,* he cried.
I hung to her head, touched her flank with the spurs
(In the red streak of rail not the ghost of a gap);
She shortened her long stroke, she pricked her sharp ears.
She flung it behind her with hardly a rap —
I saw the post quiver where Bolingbroke struck.
And guessed that the pace we had come the last mile
Had blown him a bit (he could jump like a buck).
We galloped more steadily then for a while.
I puUM her together, I press'd her, and she
Shot down the decline to the Oompany*s yard*
And on by the paddocks, yet under my knee
I could feel her heart thumping the saddle-flaps hard.
Yet a mile and another, and now we were near
The goal, and the fields and the farms flitted past;
And 'twixt the two fences I tum'd with a cheer.
For a green, grass-fed mare 'twas a far thing and fast;
And labourers, roused by her galloping hoofo.
Saw bare-headed rider and foam-sheeted steed;
And shone the white walls and the slate-coloured roofs
Of the township. I steadied her then — ^I had need —
Where stood the old chapel (where stands the new chureh—
Since chapels to ohurehes have changed in that town).
A short, sidelong stagger, a long forward luroh,
A slight choking sob, and the mare had gone down.
I slipped off the bridle, I slackened the girth,
I ran on and left her, and told them my news;
I saw her soon afterwards. What was she worth T
How much for her hide t She had never worn shoes.**
GORDON AS A POET 267
The poem was of course inspired by Browning's ** How
They brought the News to Ghent/' published ten or
twenty years earlier, but in every way is far superior to
Browning's manufactured article. For in Gordon's poem
we have the description not from an observer but from
the man who did the ride, or other such rides, while
Browning did not write like a man at arms any more
than he looked like a man at arms. Gordon's poem was
also truer poetry. Still ** From the Wreck " is inferior as
poetry to ^* The Sick Stockrider " because it was written
consciously after a model instead of being a swan-song
from the heart.
'*The wild swan's death hymn took the soul
Of that lone place with joy,"
wrote one of the greatest of England's poets — almost a
prophecy of Gordon's Sick Stockrider.
*^ Wolf and Hound " has little poetical merit though it
is a vigorous and life-like description of an exciting episode,
and full of bush colour. The only other poem of Gordon's in
which there is any great deal of bush colour is his dedication
of Bush Ballads and Galloping Rhymes to the novelist
Whyte Melville, which is directly inspired by Kendall, and
in truth reads more like Kendall than Grordon. This again
is not Gordon at his best, though the picture is a brilliant
one. The last poem in this group is ^' Grone," written
about the lost explorers Burke and Wills. But its local
colour has no great value.
There are touches of Australian colour here and there in
poems like ** De Te," but the Australian racing poems
contain hardly any local colour except the names of the
horses and their humans.
Apart from "The Sick Stockrider" and "From the
Wreck," Gordon's fame rests chiefly on his English horse
poems, of which " How we Beat the Favourite " is the
best, though not the most poetical. His best poems, tested
only as poetry, are his poems of regret like '* Doubtful
I 268 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Dreams/' "De Te/' and ''A Song of Autumn/' and
their setting is Australian.
In these without achieving Swinburne's mastery of
rhythm and vocabulary he is more interesting, because
Gordon writes not of lovers but of strong men fitting
fate. Struggle is Gordon's favourite theme.
(From <* Doubtful Dreams.*')
*' From the spot where we last lay dreaming
\ Together — ^yourself and I —
The soft grass beneath us gleaming.
Above us the great grave sky.
And we spoke thus, 'Though we have trodden
Rough paths in our boyish years;
And some with our sweat are sodden.
And some are salt with our tears;
Though we stumble still, walking blindly.
Our paths shall be made all straight;
We are weak, but the heavens are kindly,
The skies are compassionate.'
Is the clime of the old land younger.
Where the young dreams longer are nursed
With the old insatiable hunger.
With the old unquenchable thirst.
Are you longing, as in the old years
We have longed so often in vain;
Fellow-toilers still, fellow-soldiers.
Though the seas have sundered us twain ?
But the young dreams surely have faded f
Young dreams l—^ld dreams of young dajrs —
Shall the new dream vex us as they did T
Or as things worth censure or praise T
Real toil is ours, real trouble,
Dim dreams of pleasure and pride;
Let the dreams disperse like a bubble.
So the toil like a dream subside.
Vain toil I men better and braver.
Rose early and rested late.
Whose burdens than ours were graver,
And sterner than ours their hate.
What fair reward had Achilles ?
What rest could Alcides win ?
Vain toil ! ' Consider the lilies ?
They toil not, neither do spin.'
I
J
GORDON AS A POET 269
Vain dreaniB f for our fathers cheriah'd
High hopes in the days that were;
And these men wondered and perish'd.
Nor better than these we fare;
And our due at least is their due.
They fought against odds and fell;
* En avant lea enfants perdua I *
We fight against odds as well.
The skies I Will the great skies care for
Our footsteps^ straighten our path.
Or strengthen our weakness t Wherefore t
We have rather incurr'd their wrath.' ^
This is Gordon's high-water mark in pure poetry. There
is the same power — the same gift of striking phrase with
the philosophy of life behind it in these verses of "" De Te,
the poem Gordon wrote so prophetically about suicide.
»
i(
(From "De Te")
Were new life sent, and life misspent
Wiped out (if such to Qod seemed good),
Would he (being as he was) repent,
Or oould he, even if he would.
Who heeded not things understood
(Though dimly) even in savage lands
By some who worship stone or wood.
Or bird or beast, or who stretch hands
Sunwards on shining Eastern sands 7
And crime has cause. Nay, never pause
Idly to feel a pulseless wrist;
Brace up the massive, square-shaped jaws.
Unclench the stubborn, stifi'ning fist.
And close those eyes through film and mist.
That kept the old defiant glare;
And answer, wise Psychologist,
Whose science claims some little share
Of truth, what better things lay there T
Ajre ! thought and mind were there, — some kind
Of faculty that men mistake
For talent when their wits are blind •—
An aptitude to mar and break
What others diligently make.
270 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
ThiB was the wont and best of him —
Wise with the onnning of the snake.
Brave with the she-woif^s courage grim,
Dying hard and dumb, torn limb from limb."
These two poems may be taken as typical of Gordon in
his most serious vein.
But most readers of this book will be interested in
Gordon chiefly as the Laureate of Sport — cuid his fame as a
laureate of sport rests not so much on the sporting tips
in verse which he wrote for BelTs Life in Victoria and the
Australasian^ as on the sporting poems which he wrote
in Australia, but which were inspired by his memories of
racing at Prestbury and hunting in the Cotswolds in the
days when he enjoyed the friendship of some of the most
famous steeplechase-riders England ever produced, who
rode eleven Grand National winners between them — ^Tom
Oliver, George Stevens, and " Mr. Thomas " (Tom Picker-
nell), who is still alive. They are the poems which furnish
most of the quotations which have passed into proverbs in
Australia. " How we Beat the Favourite " was one of
them. This poem is by universal consent the best racing
poem in the language. It was necessary that a poet
should combine perfect knowledge of steeplechasing and
the ability to write an unconventional poem with a certain
statdiness as well as verve, in swinging metres, before
" How we Beat the Favourite "— " THE RHYTHM OF A
RACE " could be written. It presents a perfect moving
picture of a race : it is matchless. If you read the verses
aloud you get the galloping of the horses in soimd as well
as in meaning.
With " How we Beat the Favourite " may be grouped
the poems in " Ye Wearie Wayfarer " — " By Wood and
Wold " (a preamble) ; " By Flood and Field " (a legend
of the Cottiswold) ; ^^ Zu der Edlen Jagd '' (a treatise on
trees — ^vine-tree v. saddle-tree) ; " In Utrumque Paratus "
(a logical discussion) ; ^* Lex Talionis " (a moral discourse) ;
"Potters' Clay" (an allegorical interlude); "Cito Pede
GORDON AS A POET 271
Preterit ^tas'' (a philosophical dissertation); '^ Finis
Exoptatus " (a metaphysical song) ; and ^^ The Roll of
the Kettledrum *' and the poems in *^ Hippodromania,"
though these last deal with riding in Australia. And
undoubtedly this group had much to do with the fact
that in Australia Gordon is more of a household word
than Shakespeare. It is in them that most of his sayings
which have become proverbs lik(
*'No game was ever yet worth a rap
For a rational man to play
Into which no accident, no mishap
Could poesibly find its way,"
occur.
To give such of my readers as have never had Gordon's
poems in their hands some idea of ** Ye Wearie Wayfarer **
and ^* Hippodromania,'' I will give three or four typical
quotations. The first is from ^^ By Flood and Field.'' and
describes the famous Captain Nolan, immortalised by the
charge of the Light Brigade.
C(
The right hand man to the left hand said.
As down in the vale we went,
'Harden your heart like a millstone, Ned«
And set your face as a flint;
Solid and tall is the rasping wall
That stretches before us yonder;
Tou must have it at speed, or not at all,
'Twere better to halt than to ponder,
For the stream runs wide on the take-off side,
And washes the clay-bank under.
Here goes for a pull; 'tis a madman's ride,
And a broken neck, if you blunder.'
No word in reply his comrade spoke.
Nor wavered, nor once looked round.
But I saw him shorten his horse's stroke
As we splashed through the marshy ground;
I remember the laugh that all the while
On his quiet features played.
So he rode to his death with that careless smile.
In the van of the Light Brigade;
So, stricken by Russian grape, the cheer
Rang out, while he toppled back
272 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Fiom the shattered lungs, as meiry and clear
As it did when it roused ike pack.
Let never a tear his memory stain;
Give his ashes never a sigh;
One of many who perished, not in vaiMt
Aa a type of our chivdbry.
I remember one thrust he gave to his hat,
* And two to the flanks of the brown;
And still as a statue of old he sat,
And he shot to the front, hands down.
I remember the snort and the staglike bound
Of the steed six lengths to the fore.
And the laugh of the rider while, landing sound.
He turned in his saddle and glanced around;
I remember but little more.
Save a bird*s-eye gleam of the dashing stream,
A jarring thud on the wall,
A shock, and the blank of a nightmare's dream —
I was down with a stunning fall."
The second quotation comes from "" Cito Pede Preterit
iEtas."
** We have no wish to exaggerate
The worth of the sports we prize.
Some toil for their Church, and some for their State,
And some for their merchandise;
Some traffic and trade in the city^s mart,
Some travel by land and sea,
Some follow science, some cleave to art.
And some to scandal and tea.
And some for their country and their Queen
Would fight, if the chance they had.
Good sooth, 'twere a sorry world, I ween.
If we all went galloping mad.
Yet if once we efface the joys of the chase,
From the land and out-root the stud,
Oood-bye to the Anglo-Saxon race/
Farewell to the Norman blood I
Where the bum runs down to the uplands brown.
From the heights of the snow-dad range.
What anodyne drawn from the stifling town
Can be reckoned a fair exchange
For the stalker's stride, on the mountain side
In the bradng northern weather
To the slopes where couch in their antlered pride
The deer on the perfumed heather!
\
GORDON AS A POET 278
Oh the yigour with whioh, the air ia rile»
The spirit of joyous motion.
The fever, the fulnefls of animal life
Can be drained from no earthly potion I
The lungs with the living gas grow light,
And the limbs feel the strength of ten,
While the chest expands with its maddening mighty
OocTs glorwus oxygen.
Thus the measured stroke on elastio sward
Of the steed three-parts extended.
Hard held, the breath of his nostrils broad
With the golden ether blended.
Then the leap, the rise from the springy tuxf ,
The rush through the buoyant air,
And the light shook landing — ^the veriest serf
Is an emperor then and there."
The third quotation is from *^ Visions in the Smoke,"
which is certainly one of his racing pieces, and, to my mind,
much the most poetical of them.
<«
In their own generation the wise may sneer.
They hold our sports in derision.
Perchance to sophist, or sage, or seer.
Were allotted a graver vision.
Yet if man, of all the Creator planned.
His noblest work is reckoned,
Of the works of His hand, by sea or by land
The horse may at least rank second.
Did they quail, those steeds of the squadrons light,
Did they flinch from the battle's roar,
When they burst on the guns of the Muscovite
By the echoing Black Sea shore 7
On 1 on to the cannon's mouth they stride
With never a swerve or a shy,
Oh ! the minutes of yonder maddening ride
Long years of pleasure outvie.
No slave, but a comrade staunch in this.
Is the horse, for he takes his share.
Not in peril alone, but in feverish bliss.
And in longing to do and dare.
Where bullets whistle and round shot whiz.
Hoofs trample, and blades flash bare,
Qod send me an ending as fair as his
Who died in his stirrups there "
274 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
"" The Roll of the Kettledrum " is put into the mouth of
the last surviving charger ^ of the Light Brigade, and gives
the charger's account of the famous charge. Some of its
stanzas are very pathetic, and some full of spirit.
*^ The Last Leap " ought perhaps to be mentioned here.
It is not written in the vernacular like his other horse-
poems. Its brevity, its nearer approach to classical English
would almost fit it for inclusion in serious anthologies were
it not too much a reflex in its most pathetic touch of
Black Auster in Macaulay's Lays.
But Gordon was not only a horse-poet. He was the
Laureate par excellence of the over-intrepid and over-
generous, we might perhaps say *^the Laureate of w3d
oats." The cavalier poets — ^most of them heroes — of the
great Rebellion, would have hailed him as their bright
particular star. That kind of bravery, that kind of
generosity, which illuminate a life with flashes of lightning
instead of an even brilliance, found in him their most
eloquent advocate.
" No tears are needed — ^fill out the wine,
Let the goblets clash and the grape-joioe flow,
Ho 1 pledge me a death drink, comrade mine,
To a brave man gone where we all must go^«>
he wrote over poor Wills, the explorer, when he had
perished in what was then the wilderness.
There is an echo of despair in neariy all Gordon's poem8»
but it is not the kind of despair which apathetically lets
things go by default, nor does his poetry breathe much
suggestion of the last terrible refuge which he did actually
seek ; it is more the despair of a ^' forlorn hope," the courage
of despair.
Some lines in *' Finis Exoptatus " give us the Gordonian
philosophy at its noblest —
^ The late Colonel Connelly hunted for many years with the Berkeley
(afterwards Cotswold) hounds, on the charger he rode in the charge of tiM
Light Brigade. The charger came out of the charge shot through the
ear. Some people hold that the Colonel was ** Ned."
GORDON AS A POET 275
" Question not, but live and labour
Till yon goal be won,
Helping every feeble neighbour,
Seeking help from none.
Life is moBtly froth and bubble.
Two things stand like stone —
Kindnesfl in another's trouble.
Courage in your own.
Courage, comrades I This is certain —
All is for the best}
There are lights behind the curtain;
Gentles, let us rest,'*
The eight Pjirtes of Ye Wearie Wayfarer have probably
won Ck)Tdon as many friends as any of his poems. They
are so full of his bushman's philosophy, which has become
the Gospel of Australia, so full of his sayings which have
become proverbs in Australia.
Pytte I, "By Wood and Wold," is as agreeable an
introduction as the opening of Boccaccio's Decameron in
that garden between Florence and Fiesole.
Pytte n, " By Flood and Field," gives us an inunitable
description of hunting in the Cotswolds — ^incidentally
introducing Captain Louis Edward Nolan riding to hounds,
and riding to his death in the charge of the Light Brigade
at Balaclava — in ringing and immortal verse.
Fytte III, " Zu der Edlen Jagd,'* proclaims how much a
finer stimulant riding is than drink. It is about the least
inspired of the series.
Fytte IV, ** In Utrumque Paratus/* on the other hand,
is one of the best, full of proverbs, and ending with the
famous passage about David and Uriah the Hittite.
"Does HE warble *non nobis Domine,*
With his monarch in blissful concert, free
From all malice to flesh inherent?"
'* Zemiah's offspring, who served so well,
Tet between the horns of the altar fell —
Does HIS voice the ' Quid ghnaris * swell,
Or the ' Quare fretmterwU f *
T2
276 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
It may well be thuB, where DAVID sings,
And Uriah joins in the chorus.
But while earth to eaxthly matter clings.
Neither you nor the brayest of Judah^s kings
As a pattern can stand before us.^*
Fytte V, " Lex Talionis," is good Gordonian philosophy
in vigorous verse. It is remembered by most people for
its allusion to the wreek of the London.
Fytte VI, " Potter's Clay," is a graceful little two-stanza
poem on the danger of safety-— one idea slightly treated.
Fytte VII, '' Cito Pede Praeterit Aetas," is one of the
best of the series, it is the carpe diem poem, and contains
some of Gordon's most ringing stanzas, the panegyric on
riding, which culminates in —
** Yet, if once we efface the joys of the chase.'*
Fytte VIII, '^ Finis Exoptatus," is Gordon's valediction.
Perhaps the best remembered of many memorable lines
in it are the passage on the chimes of Sweet St. Mary's,
and —
" Life is mostly froth and bubble.**
These eight poems are full of felicitous expressions, full
of the Gordonian philosophy in his best vein of —
" Trusting grandly, singing gaily,
Confident and calm/*
They are ringing in metre, picturesque in expression, full
of striking allusions ; they show us Gordon before the fear-
lessness and sturdiness of his youth were broken by constant
injuries to his head in steeplechasing, and pecuniary dis-
illusions.
The five pieces of " Hippodromania " — " Visions in the
Smoke," "The Fields of Coleraine," "Credat Judaeus
Apella," "Banker's Dream" and "Ex Fumo dare
Lucem," with the exception of the first, are not at all equal
to the eight pieces in Ye Wearie Wayfarer as poetry. In
fact, they are not poetry at all. They are merely excellent
racing rhymes. In the same way the " Romance of
GORDON AS A POET 277
Britomarte " is not a poem, but a metrical story, whose
chief Olmnination is its knowledge of horsecraft. Like
^^ Ashtaroth '* it is full of immaturities.
The best of the poems written directly under the influence
of Swinburne, whose rhythms Gordon loved more than any
other poet's, are ^^ Podas Okus," which describes the death
of Achilles, ^^ The Rhyme of Joyous Gard " (as Arthurian
scholars spell it), and ^' The Swimmer.'*
'" Podus Okus ** and the '' Rhyme of Joyous Gard " are
very much under the influaice of Swinburne, but they are
strengthened with Gordon's own warrior touch, and con-
tain some very fine lines and passages. In the very first
verse of **' Podus Okus," which is the very first verse in
the book, occurs that line which has almost become a
proverb, ^'Hush'd are all the Myrmidons,'! and a little
later follows some typical Gordonisms —
(C
giory,
Coupled with an early tomb,
• • • •
Day by day our ranks diminish.
We are falling day by day;
But our sons the strife will finish.
Where man tarries, man must slay.
« * * *
Shorter doom Fye pictured dimly,
On a bed of orimson sand;
Fighting hard and dying grimly,
Silent lips, and striking hand.
• • * •
Dry those violet orbs that gUsten,
Darling, I have had my day;
Place your hand in mine and listen.
Ere the strong soul cleaves its way
Through the death-mist hovering o'er me,
As the stout ship cleaves the wave.
To my fathers gone before me.
To the gods who love the brave.
« * * *
Yet th* Elysian halls are spacious.
Somewhere near me, I may keep
Room — ^who knows 7 — ^the gods are gracious;
Lay me lower — ^let me sleep 1"
278 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
These last lines are addressed to hi3 beautiful lost
mistress, Briseis. The whole poem has the vibrant
Achillean personality of Gordon permeating it.
The "Rhyme of Joyous Gard " ^ is supposed to be written
by Sir Launeelot of the Lake, in the monastery whither he
had retired as a penitent, over the death of Queen Guinevere,
who had also retired to a convent at Amesbury. Li form
it may be too beholden to Swinburne, and Gordon had but
a slight acquaintance with the legend compared to Tenny-
son, but he has earned his right to handle the subject by
the personality, his own personality, which he has infused
into Launeelot. Here is a verse with more honest fighting
in it than generally comes within the limits of a whole
Arthurian poem —
" Then a steel-shod rush and a steel-clad ring.
And a crash of the spear staves splintering.
And the billowy battle blended.
Riot of chargers, revel of blows.
And fierce flush'd faces of fighting foes,
From croup to bridle, that reel*d and rose.
In a sparkle of sword-play splendid.
And the long, lithe sword in the hand became
As a leaping light, as a falling flame.
As a fire through the flax that hasted.
I have done for ever with all these things —
Deeds that were joyous to knights and kings.
In days that with songs were cherish'd.
The songs are ended, the deeds are done,
There shall none of them gladden me now, not one;
There is nothing good for me under the sun.
But to perish as these things perished."
" If ever I smote as a man should smite.
If I struck one stroke that seemed good in Thy sight.
By Thy loving-mercy prevailing,
Lord I Let her stand in the light of Thy face.
Clothed with Thy love, and crowned with Thy grace»
When I gnash my teeth in the terrible place
That is filled with weeping and wailing."
^ Incorrectly spelt Oarde in Gordon's poems.
GORDON AS A POET 279
This is a ringing poem which carries the reader right
along.
Gordon was not so successful in the imitations of the
old Scottish Border ballads which he attempted. Most of
his poems have some merit, except ^' Ashtaroth ** and the
*' Road to Avemus " and the ^^ Old Leaven/' but poems
like ^^ Fauconshawe " and ^^ Rippling Water '* and '^ Un-
shriven/* have not enough raison d^Hre. They suggest to
me the immature author who had written ^^ The Feud *' for
publication in a bazaar album at Mount Gambler (a
poem which though it injures Gordon's reputation, is repro-
duced in this volume), feeling his way towards the vigorous
gift of poetic expression which was to give him a permanent
place in the literature, not only of Australia, but of England.
Gordon wrote a few poems of very high merit which do
not depend on local colour (except in the case of the last
one), or his own personality for their interest. ^^ The Song
of the Surf," " From Lightning and Tempest," '' A Song
of Autumn " and '' The Swunmer." '' The Song of the
Surf," which contains that often-quoted verse —
" You oome, and your orests are hoary with the foam of your oountleBS
years;
Tou break, with a rainbow of glory, through the spray of your glittering
tears.
Is your song a song of gladness ? a p»an of joyous might ?
Or a wail of discordant sadness for the wrongs you never can right ?
For the empty seat by the ingle ? for children 'reft of their sire 7
For the bride, eitting, sad, and single, and pale, by the flickering fire 7 "
'^ From Lightning and Tempest " and ** A Song of
Autumn " are Gk)rdon's two little gems, the two which
are mostly likely to find their way into anthologies like the
Golden Treasury of Songs and Lyrics. They must be
quoted entire.
FROM UGHTNINQ AND TEMPEST
**Th6 spring-wind pass'd throogh the forest, and whispered low in the leaves.
And the cedar toss'd her head, and the oak stood firm in his pride;
The spring-wind pass'd through the town, through the housetops,
casements, and eaves.
And whispered low in the hearts of the men, and the men replied.
280 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Singing — ' Let ns lejoioe in the light
Of OUT glory, and beauty, and might;
Let us follow OUT own devices, and foster our own desires.
As firm as our oaks in our pride, as our oedars fair in our sight.
We stand like the trees of the forest that brave the frosts uid the
fires.
The storm went forth to the forest, the plague went forth to the town.
And the men fell down to the plague, as the trees fell down to the
gale;
And their bloom was a ghastly pallor, and their soule wiis a ghastly
frown.
And the song of their hearts was changed to a wild, disconsolate
wail.
Crying — ' God I we have sinn'd, we have sinn'd.
We are bruised, we are shorn, we are thinn'd.
Our strength is tum'd to derision, our pride laid low in the dust.
Our oedars are cleft by Thy lightnings, our oaks are strew'd by Thy
wind.
And we fall on our faces seeking Thine aid, though Thy wratii is
just.* »
A SONG OF AUTUMN
" Where shall we go for our garlands glad
At the falling of the year.
When the bumt-up banks are yellow and sad.
When the boughs are yellow and sere ?
Where are the old ones that once we had.
And when are the new ones near 7
What shall we do for our garlands glad
At the falling of the year ?
** Child ! can I tell where the garlands go 7
Can I say where the lost leaves veer
On the brown-burnt banks, when ttie wild winds blow.
When they drift through the dead-wood drear 7
Girl t when the garlands of next year glow.
You may gather again, my dear —
But I go where the last year's lost leaves go
At the falling of the year."
^^ The Swimmer " is too long to quote entire, nor is it
of such a uniform merit as the two poems just quoted.
But it has passages of supreme beauty, and is of tibe highest
interest in a biography of Gordon because the sea had such
GORDON AS A POET 281
an extraordinary fascination for him. Regardless of the
savage blue sharks which infest the coasts of Australia, he
would swim half a mile out to sea» and once taxed himself so
seveiely that he only just had the strength to get back
again. When he was living near Cape Northumberland
be would lie for hours on the edge of the cliff gazing at the
sea, and he seems to have liked it best in its fiercest moods,
though he makes no allusions to boating on it. It took a
man who revelled in swimming to write this verse —
*' I would that with sleepy soft embraces
The sea would fold me — ^would find me rest
In luminous shades of her seoret places,
In depths where marvels are manifest;
So the earth beneath her should not discover
My hidden couch — nor the heaven above her—
As a strong love shielding a weary lover,
I would have her shield me with shining breast."
Of the poems Swinbumian in form and pessimism, but
full of the personality of Gordon, the best is ^^ Doubtful
Dreams,*' quoted above, though there are also splendid
lines in ** De Te," " Quare Fatigasti," and " Wormwood
and Nightshade." I have quoted from " De Te."
'^ Laudamus " falls into the same group, but it is inspired
by Alfred de Musset more than by Swinburne. It is a
poem with striking beauties, and contains four of Gordon's
most famous lines —
'* Let us thank the Lord for His bounties all.
For the brave old days of pleasure and pain,
When the world for both of us seem'd too small —
Though the love was void and the hate was vain — ^"
In connection with *^ Laudamus " it is natural to mention
*^ Cui Bono," a poem not at all of the same rank, because
it is made up entirely of aphorisms, some of them rather
cheap aphorisms, without the backbone of romance which
adds so much to the other. The sayings in it are much
quoted by the people who *^ spout " GU>nlon. And with
*' Cui Bono " must be mentioned poems like '* Sunlight on
the Sea/' which contains the famous anachronism, To^
282 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
night tvith Plato toe shaU sup; and ^^Ars longa, Vita
brevk."
One other class of poem remains to be noticed, the
autobiographical. Chief among them come ^^ Whisperings
in Wattle-boughs," '' To my Sister " and " I am Weaiy,
Let me GU>/* Gordon did not write ^^ A Voice from the
Bush»" which is printed in some editions of his works
I have in my possession a letter from Mr« Mowbray Morris,
saying definitely that he wrote the poem. Mr. Morris was
secretary or aide-de-camp to Sir James Fergusson, Bart.,
Governor of South Australia (1869-1878) at the time the
poem was written. Internal evidence shows that it could
not have been Gordon's, because its metre is halting and
irregular, while Gordon, though not so musical as Kendall,
was essentially a musical writer. Also, it is a reflection of
*' The Sick Stockrider " in one passage, as Mr. Howlett Ross
points out.
The biographical allusions in this poem are explained in
the glossary of Gordon allusions.
The often-quoted poem ""To my Sister*' is chiefly
valuable biographically. It shows that it was not want of
sensibility and natural good feeling which made Grordon
so wild as a boy. His wildness was due to the fact that
he was bom strong, brave and adventurous and was
allowed to run wild. The world would have applauded
his escapades as fine and spirited if he had been bom a
little higher in the scale of rank.
This poem, written three days before he sailed for
Australia, when Gordon was about twenty, is, of course,
immature compared with his best work, though it contains
some typically Gordonian lines, such as —
*' On earth there's little worth a sigh,
And nothing worth a tear.**
'^ Early Adieux '* was not included in Marcus Clarice's
edition of the collected volume of his poems, nor was ^^ Hie
Exile's Farewell." The latter, rather simflar in cast to
GORDON AS A POET 288
the poem called '^ To my Sister," is written with much more
rhythmical skill. Indeed, parts of it reach a high standard.
It also has a biographical value.
^' I am Weary, Let me Go " is a Nunc Dimittis poem,
written glibly but with strong internal evidence of not
being Gordon's work, though it is stated on the good
authority of the Australasian to be his.
'^ Whispering in Wattleboughs " is on the same theme as
'^ To my Sister," but Gordon has grown up poetically in
the interval. Here is a really fine lyric, written with the
ease and strength of rhythm which furnished a great factor
in Crordon's popularity.
It is uncertain whether ^' Na Name " should be included
in this group, or in the group which contains ^^ Doubtful
Dreams " and the beautiful translation from De Musset's
^' Three Friends." It is, however, sometimes believed to
be autobiographical and, in that case, belongs here. The
biographical interest centres roimd the
C(
Yon in your beauty above me bent,
In the pause of a wild West Country ball
Spoke to me*-touohed me without intent —
Made me your senrant for onoe and all.
\i
Personally, I am not of the opinion that this poem refers
to any event in his own life, I think I can trace its origin
in Browning.
The sources of Gordon's popularity as a poet are per-
sonality, subject and style. Chief among them is the
intense personality which vibrates through them. Grordon
is never a Wordsworth, filling his hives steadily from all the
suitable flowers round him. He never writes poems as
intellectual exercises — as essays in rhyme and rhythm on
phases supplied by Nature or domestic incidents. His
poems well up from his heart like strong springs and sweep
the reader along with them. In other words he is a votes,
the word which the Romans applied to a great poet, in all
senses of the word — not only as a maker of verses but as a
prophet and a preacher, who has a message to deliver.
284 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
He was one of those curious vessels chosen by the Lord to
stop the passer-by, and force him to take an interest in the
enigma of life. That wonderful personality, so arrestive, so
splendid, so tragic, must have been given him for the purpose.
Subject, of course, coimted for an immense deal in
Crordon's popularity. But it was not till his last days that
Gordon wrote of sport consciously because people were
interested in sport, and the verses he wrote under that
influence, except *^ Visions in the Smoke,'* which may have
been written already and merely served as the sample
which secured him the order for the others, are, but for
their knowledge of horses and their metrical merits, among
the least valuable of Gordon's poems. Up to this he had
written of sport because sport was the matter that lay
nearest to his hand. Like Walt Whitman, he had said
nothing is unsuitable for poetry which can be made a
vehicle for feeling and creation.
But his magnificent ^* How we Beat the Favourite " and
the ringing, manful, breezy, picturesque poetical proverbs
of ** Ye Wearie Wayfarer " belong to a very different order.
Gordon wrote those because he felt Australia in his veins.
I know from personal experience what this means to a
young man, for I went to Australia straight from Oxford
when I was little older than Gordon, and going up oa
stations in the Western District of Victoria belonging to
various connecti<xis of my family, spent months in sheer
exultation over the forest primeval of the Otway, the
plains that lost themselves in the horizon, the glittering
Australian climate, the champagne-like air, the long days
in the saddle, the shooting of extraordinary game, the
flashing by of parrots and cockatoos, the hiss of the angry
snake, the excitements of raging floods and raging bush*
fires. And all except the climate Gordon must have fdt
a hundredfold. In my time we went into the forest on
purpose to get the wild life, as one takes a rough shooting
in the Hebrides ; in Gordon's time the whole country was
only just emerging from its primeval state; the Blacks
GORDON AS A POET 285
were still a menace to solitary stations, though, curiously
enough, Gordon never alludes to raids by the Blacks, and
hardly alludes to the Blacks at all, probably because the
subject of the reprisals by the settlers was distasteful to
him. llr. George Riddoch informs me that the Blacks
in the actual Gordon country were very civilized. In
Gordon's time one had often to ride from station to station
through the bush. To Adelaide itself, from Mount Gambier,
he once rode through the ninety-mile desert. The memories
of the great gold rush were still fresh ; the bushranger was
still abroad in the land. Life was full of stimulants which
were watered down by my time.
Yet I felt intoxicated with that year I spent on stations
in Australia, though I had not chafed against the conditions
of my life in England.
How much more than I should Gordon, who was for
ever kicking against the pricks in England, have rejoiced
like a young colt in the wild life of his time ? What could
be more natural than that his exultation should have found
vent in poetry — ^the poetry which he felt in his everyday
surroundings I
It is this which makes those early sporting poems so
spontaneous, so original, so irresistible.
The third element in the popularity of Gordon was the
charm of the style he evolved. Gordon was familiar with
the sporting verses which had been written by hunting men
in England, but, unlike most sporting men, he also loved
all good poetry — ^Latin and Greek and French as well as
English. So he was able to improve his models. What
made him better than all other sporting poets was that he
was a much better poet than any of them, and that he had
exactly the ear for devising and executing the ringing
metres which his subjects demanded. There is no other
volume of sporting poetry so dashing as Gordon's, dashing
in subject, style and metre. Gordon was a genius. Ejpling
is the only other genius who has written English poetry in
the vernacular, and he is not a sporting poet.
286 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
But Gordoa was not a poet of the first oider. He had
not the broad humanity, the serene power of a Homer,
a Chaucer, a Shakespeare, or a Longfellow. Within his
narrow range, he was strong, but his range was some^diat
narrow. He was, however, a true poet, as is shown by his
universal and growing popularity in his own land. A poet
who appeals to the lettered and the unlettered alike, who
is popular with the student and popular with the stable-boy,
must be a true poet. A man may appeal to a class as the
mouthpiece of that class ; he cannot appeal to all classes
alike if he be not genuine.
The '' Sick Stockrider *' is the essence of the man.
It displays, in a marked degree, his eloquence, his ringing
rhythm, his knowledge of the bush, and it is the. child of
his history, the genuine outcome of his wild heart. Had
he never written another piece his fame would have been
assured. Like '' Doubtful Dreams '^ it rings with the manly
melancholy of Gordon.
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CHAPTER XIX
A KEY TO THE PRINCIPAL ALLUSIONS IN GORDON'S POEMS
PoDAS Oeus. — The Death of Achilles is described here.
Fred Marshall has a note about it. *^ Gordon wished
to withdraw this poem as his history was wrong.
Briseis was taken from him by Agamemnon, and she
did not see him die.'' This is a fact, but Gordon may
be allowed the poetic licence of imagining Briseis back
with him as he was dying.
Myrmidon has now become a phrase, but the
original Myrmidons were a race of warriors who
migrated from ^gina to Thessaly and thus became
the subjects of Peleus and his son Achilles.
AtOomedanf the son of Diores, was the charioteer
and companion of Achilles.
Agamemnon was the generalissimo of the Greek
forces before Troy. He was King of Mycenae fuid a
sort of over-King of the whole Peloponnesus. As such
he compelled Achilles, who was merely the Chief of a
few brave highlanders from Thessaly, to surrender to
him his beautiful mistress, Briseis.
Diomede or Diomedes, another of the Greek allies
in the Siege of Troy, was the King of Argos. Next to
Achilles he was reckoned the bravest of the Greeks
Nestor, the oldest of the Greek chiefs before Troy,
was famous for his wisdom, justice, bravery, know-
ledge of war, and eloquence. It was he who persuaded
Achilles to join in the expedition.
VlysseSt the Eang of the Island of Ithaca, was the
most cunning and capable of all the Greeks before
Troy, and famous for his wanderings on his return
2S7
288 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
from Troy, which form the subject of Homer's
Odyssey. Gordon should not have used the form
Ulysses, as the Greek form of his name was Odysseus.
Priam was Eang of Troy, father of Hector, Paris,
Cassandra, Polyxena, etc.
Menelaus was King of Sparta. The carrying-off of
his wife, Helen, by Paris, was the occasion of the
Trojan war. He was the most modem and humane
of idl the characters in Homer.
PaHs^ son of Priam, King of Troy, by eloping with
Helen, the wife of Menelaus, when he was her husband's
guest, brought on the Trojan war.
Phcehua and ApoUo are names of the same God, the
most powerful deity on the side of the Trojans in the
war.
Polyxena^ whose name Gordon pronoimees wrong,
because the *'e" is short and not long, was the
dauf^ter of Priam, Ejng of Troy, and bdoved by
Achilles.
There are two different legoids about the love of
Achilles and Polyxena. One is that Achilles promised
Priam to force the Greeks to conclude peace with him
if he gave him Polyxena to wife, and that when he
went to the temple of the Thymbrcean Apc^o for
the purpose of negotiating the marriage in a neutral
spot, he was treacherously killed by Paris. The other
is that Achilles and Polyxena fell in love with each
other when Hector's body was delivered up to Priam,
and that after the murder of Achilles Polyxena fled
to the Greeks and slew herself with a sword on the
tomb of her beloved.
AtkenOy the goddess of wisdom, identified by the
Romans with Minervdy was the most powerful deity
on the side of the Greeks in the siege of Troy.
The whole poem deals with the Homeric details of
the siege of Troy.
Thetis, the SM-Goddess, was the mother of Achilles,
A KEY TO ALLUSIONS IN POEMS 280
a Nereid who lived in the depths of the sea with her
father, Nereus. She fell in love with his father,
Peleus, King of Thessaly, fuid when Achilles was bom
of the marriage she made him immortal by dipping
him in the waters of the Styx. But the ankles, by
which she held him, remained dry, and it was there
that the arrow of Paris killed him.
The Scamander is the river on the plain of Troy.
Patroelus^ a beautiful boy, the bosom friend of
Achilles, played a very important part in the Trojan
War, because it was to avenge his death that Achilles
took the field again after he had refused to take all
further part in the war in consequence of Agamemnon
having commandeered his beautiful mistress, Briseis.
*' Should I hear the shepherd hotuiing
To hie Argive eonctdnne^*
The Shepherd is Paris, the son of Priam, King of
Troy, who was so beautiful that Hera (Juno)» Athena
(Minerva), and Aphrodite (Venus) asked him to decide
which was the most beautiful of the three, and to
present her with the apple (of Discord.) Paris gave the
apple to Aphrodite, throwing the far more powerful
Hera and Athene on the side of the Greeks in the
Trojan War.
As Gordon is using the Greek form of the names he
should have called Jove, Zeus.
The real name of Briseis was Hippodameia, the
daughter of Briseus, King of the Leleges, who hung
himself when Achilles carried off his daughter to be
his mistress.
" Were the laurda torn from EeeiorP
HeeUjf^ son of Priam, was the chief hero on the side
of Troy ; he was kiUed by Achilles, and the Biad ends
with his death. His boiustfulness originated the term
Hectoring.
S90 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
'' ^Twaa the fraud of Priam^s daughter^
Not the force of Priam^s Mm."
This refers to Polyxena and Paris.
Charon was the ferryman who conveyed the souls
of the departed across the river Styx.
Gone. — ^This poem describes the death of Burke and Wills,
the explorers, in Central Australia. It appeared in
Baily^s Magazine for March 1870, in an article by Major
• Leveson (the Old Shikarri — ^H.A.L.). Major Leveson
remarked on this pathetic description of Burke's
death. Three months later it would almost have done
for a description of Gordon's own death.
The famous monument to Burke and Wills by
Charles Summers, the first Australian sculptor, which
used to stand in Collins Street fuid now stands in
Spring Street, Melbourne, commemorates the disas-
trous death of the two explorers, Robert O'Hara
Burke and William John Wills, who made a successful
expedition of exploration from Melbourne to the Gulf
of Carpentaria, leaving their supply dep6t under
Brahe and three other men at Cooper's Creek, to
await their return for three or four months. They
reached tidal waters and turned back, but Brahe
carried out his orders too literally and retreated, leav-
ing only a small supply of provisions, on the very
morning of the day on which they arrived. Burke
and Wills made a fatal delay in waiting to bury Gray,
and then, instead of carrying out Wills's suggestion of
hurrying on in Brahe's tracks, Burke insisted upon
striking across the desert for the nearest South
Australian station. They failed for want of water,
and struggled back to Cooper's Creek, only to find
that in the interval Brahe had come back to look for
them and, not finding them, had gone South. Burke
and Wills died almost simultaneously of starvation,
on June 28, 1860. King, a labouring man, their
companion, managed to subsist among the blacks
A KEY TO ALLUSIONS IN POEMS 291
till he was rescued on September 21 » by the search
party sent out under Alfred W. Howitt. Howitt
buried the two hapless explorers, though Burke had
particularly requested King not to bury him, but to
let him lie above ground with a pistol in his hand, as
commemorated in the line of the poem,
** With the pistol clenched in hie fcUling ?i€md"
Burke and Wills were the first white men to cross
the Australian Continent. The monument com-
memorates their exploit as well as their fate. This
and other poems of Gordon were reviewed by Major
Leveson — ^the Old Shikarri — ^in Baily*8 Magazine three
months before Gordon's death. Gordon was much
pleased by the review, which reached Melbourne
before his death.
Unshbiven. — ^This poem seems to have been suggested by
one of Mrs. Browning's.
Ye Weame WAYFAmR. Fytte I.—" By Wood and Wold."
'* This is a rather hyperbolical account of a foxhunt
on the Cotswold hills. Gordon had very little ex-
perience with fox-hounds, for he left England before
he had reached maturity. He could not afford good
mounts; he seldom borrowed or hired a hunter on
which he could learn the noble art properly. Tom
Oliver, the trainer and steeplechase rider, used to put
him up now and then either on rough young horses
to educate him in a short lesson with hounds, or on
a valuable steeplechaser to ^ qualify.' The country
which he describes is not to be found in the Cotswolds,
nor could a horse be discovered who could jump out
of a bog over a big stream and a big stone wall and
shove to the front of a field. This sort of thing was
probably suited to his Antipodean audience, for it reads
splendidly." — "Small Hopes," in the lUvMraied
Sporting and Dramatic News.
U2
292 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
But Colonel Yardley, of Cheltenham, a recog-
nised authority on sport, says that the jump does
exist.
Fytte II.—" By Flood and Field." (A legend of the
Cots wolds.)
'' The Seven Rills " are the seven springs three miles
out of Cheltenham on the Cirencester road — ^locally
considered to be the source of the Thames. They
are in an enclosed garden at the back of the old
rifle range.
Jack Esdaile. See chapter on ''Gordon in the
Cotswolds."
Hugh St. Clair, ditto.
Bob Chapman, ditto.
Andrew Kerty ditto.
George Griffiths on Devil-May-Care. Most authori-
ties think that Gordon was writing about Ned Grif-
fiths, his brother. Both of them were at Cheltenham
College with Gordon, but the late Lord James of
Hereford, who was at Cheltenham College with all
three of them, thinks that Gordon did refer to George
Griffiths. He calls him a stout young gentleman who
hunted with the Cotswolds in the fifties, and afterwards
became a barrister on the Oxford Circuit. The
horse's real name was not Devil-May-Care, but Box-
keeper ; it was changed to suit the rhyme.
^' One who rode on a dark brown eteed.^* This is
believed to be Captain Louis Edward Nolan, of the
15th Hussars, who was killed in the charge of the
Light Brigade, almost exactly in the manner described
in the poem,^ except that Gordon evidently thought
Nolan was cheering on the Light Brigade when he fell,
instead of trying to divert their course to one side of
^ Monsignor Nolan, a oousin of Captain Nolan, has established the fact
that he was called *' Ned " in his family. Major Leveson, known also as
Hal and the Old Shikarry, who says that Gordon meant Nolan by Ned,
was himself wounded at Balaclava. He was a constant contributor to
BaUf^a Magazine and died in 1876
A KEY TO ALLUSIONS IN POEMS 298
the Valley. Captain Nolan was very well known as
a steeplechase-rider in India.
'' And headed towards the vale.'' The late '' Small
Hopes '* says no Cots wold fox heads for the vale ; no
one ever saw a wall on the down*side of a brook and
a swamp before it on the Cotswolds ; no one ever rode
such an impossible jump. But Colonel Yardley dis-
agrees with him as has been seen.
*^ I was down with a stunning faU.*' There is an old
rhyme of Gordon's, dated 1852, which runs —
" There's lots of refusing and falls and mishaps
Who's down on the ohestnut ? He's hurt himself p'raps.
O 'it's Lindsay the lanky,' says Hard-iiding Bob,
' He's luokily saved Mr. Caloraft a job.' "
''Lindsay Gordon took the effect out of adverse
criticism on the part of his comrades by severely
criticising himself among the rest of the tumblers."
Cheltenham Examiner, March 27, 1889.
Hardrfiding Bob is Bob Chapman.
Fytte III.— Zu der Edlm Jagd. This means ** To
the Noble Chase."
For the allusi<Mis to Gordon's family, see page 184.
^' Market Harborough " was the title of one of the
most famous novels of Major Whyte Melville, with
whom he corresponded, and to whom he dedicated
Bttsh Ballads and Galloping Rhymes. Gordon evi-
dently uses it as a pseudonjrm for Whyte Melville.
" Nimrod " was the editor of the Sporting Magazine
and many books on sport, and a life of Jack Mytton.
His name was Charles James Apperly.
Mr. W. Scarth Dixon has discovered that '" Martin-
gale " was the pseudonym of James White, a well-
known sporting writer, whose two brothers owned the
Doncaster Gazette.
The Powers that be. This refers to two brothers,
Messrs. Robert and Herbert Power, who were stock
and station agents in Melbourne. Robert Power was
294 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
a Steward of the Victorian Racing Club and, like his
brother, Herbert Power, owned racehorses. Gordon
was the guest of Robert Power at Toorak a few months
before his death, and wrote ^^ The Song of Autumn *'
for Mr. Power's little daughter, who must be a woman
of fifty now if she is alive.
Fattgh-a-ballagh (Mr. R. Norfolk), ridden by
Downes, won the hurdle race at the V.R.C. Spring
Meeting, 1868.^
Dandenong is a beautiful place in the hills near the
Melbourne waterworks.
Fytte rv. — In Vttumque Paratus. Prepared for
either event, t . e. for good or evil fortime.
This Wills was one of the first great Australian
cricketers.
^' DonH stop toith your head too frequently.** Gordon
is said to have stopped with his own head very fre-
quently. *' Look before you leap, etc.** " Gk>rdon*s first
preceptor in horsemanship, Mr. Grcorge Reeves, of the
Riding School, Cheltenham,*' says '* Small Hopes,"
" had much trouble with his headstrong pupO. He
never could get him to soften his hands or use his
wrists properly : he had, moreover, to restrain his
rampageous tendencies. Gordon was always so short-
sighted that half the time he could not see which way
he was going. ... he was a butcher on horseback,
plucky without discretion, and very hard upon his
horse. In boxing, Gordon never condescended to
guard himself or evade a blow, but stopped every
one by some part of his person, his head for a
choice." See account of Gk>rdon's fight with Jem
Edwards.
Gordon was fond of visiting the West Country fairs
to put on the gloves with all comers in the boxing
booths.
^ Faugh-a-ballagh was also the pBoadonym of a sportmg writer of the
time in the Austrakman. The horse ran in many hurdle raoee.
A KEY TO ALLUSIONS IN POEMS 295
Last par. lines 1, 2. —
** Though the PhiUMine^s mail could naught avail
Nor the spear Uie a weaver^a beam.**
This refers to the armour and spear of Ckdiath, the
giant killed by David. 1 Samuel, chap. xvii.
Line 8. The Psalmist is David.
Line 6. The Hittite is Uriah, who was put by David
in the forefront of the battle to be killed because the
King was in love with his wife.
Non nobis Domine is the Latin heading of Psalm cxv.
'^ Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto Thy
Name give the praise ; for Thy loving mercy, and for
Thy truth's sake."
Line 10. Zeruiah's offspring is Joab, the faithful
and successful general of David, who, in spite of all
his services, was killed while taking sanctuary at the
altar, for espousing the cause of Adonijah.
Line 12. The '' Quid Gloriaris " is the heading of
Psalm Hi. ^^ Why boasted thou thyself, thou
tyrant ? "
Line 18, Quare fremueruni ? " Why do the heathen
so furiously rage together, why do the people imagine
a vain thing." Psalm xi.
Fytte V. — Lex Talionis, This signifies the law of
revenge.
^^ Aht Friend^ did you think when ihe London sank ! "
The London^ one of the Money Wigram line to Aus-
tralia, foundered in the Bay of Biscay on January
11, 1866, with terrible loss of life, made dramatic
by the heroism of Gustavus Vaughan Brooke^ the
actor.
Fytte \1.— Potter's Clay. Harry de Wmdt, in
My Restless Life, wrote of this poem, ^^ it was surely
better to die in harness with Nature for a nurse and
the open sky above you, than to see Death slowly
approach, inch by inch, through the stifling atmosphere
296 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
of the sick room. When elderiy croakers, therefore,
remmd me that I am not as yomig as I was and
enforce their remarks by quoting from that time-
worn, dreary chestnut, the pitcher and the well, I
am sorely tempted to reply in the words of Lindsay
Gordon."
Fytte VII. — Cito pede preterit cetas. This means Age
passes with swift foot.
Verse 5. — Arcades ambo. The Arcadians were the
most primitive of all the Greeks, proverbial for their
want of intelligence.
Eweter HaU stood on the site of the Strand Palace
Hotel; it was the great place for religious meetings
held in protest. The Bacchanals were the female
attendants of Bacchus, the God of Wine. The
Sensual Sybarites. The inhabitants of Sybaris were
proverbial as voluptuaries.
Dum Vivimus^ Vivamus : '^ While we live let us
live.'' This is a corruption of the famous motto, '^ Vive
ut Vivas.'*
'' Bui Nolan's name will flourish in fame.*' — Captain
Louis Edward Nolan, killed at Balaclava. See F}rtte
II, " By Flood and Field."
*' Ere nerve and sinew began to fail
In the Consulship of Plancus f ^*
There ought to be a comma after ^^ fail " because
in sense the second line comes first, (rordon means
that he couldn't have borne this in the consulship
of Plancus, i. e. in his salad days. Munatius Plancus
was Consul in B.C. 42, the year of the Battle of Philippi,
when passions were at their highest and Horace was
only twenty-one years old. The allusion is in the last
two lines of Horace's Odes^ 8. 14.
cc
Non ego hoc fenem oalidua juyentA
Oonsole PJanoo^'*
A KEY TO ALLUSIONS IN POEMS 297
Which may be translated —
" I oould not stand this when I was hot with youth
In the oonsulship of Planous.**
It means, therefore, roughly, " In the pride of my
youth.'*
Fytte VIII. — Finis Exoptatus means " The desired
end," The Apostle of the Gentiles means St. Paul. Dark
Plumed Azrael in the Mahomedan Mythology is ^^ The
Angel who watches over the dying, and takes the
Soul from the Body."
*' Or Uke chimes of gweet 8t. Mary's
On far English ffround.**
This refers to the Cheltenham Parish Church.
It is on record that Warren Hastings, ^o owned
the ground on which the Plough Hotel, Chdtenham,
is built, was in the habit of going to St. Mary's to see
Lady D'Oyley's monument. Was this his romance ?
Borrowed Plumes. — ^This poem is explained by its
footnote on page 44 of Gordon's Poems.
Pastor Cum. — ^This stands for Pastor Cum traheret, part
of the first line of Horace, Ode^ I. 15, of which this
poem is a translation. The poem refers to the Rape of
Helen and the Destruction of Troy.
The Shepherd False is Paris, son of Priam, whose
carrying off of his hostess, Helen, from Menelaus, led
to the siege of Troy. Priam was King of Troy.
Pallas (Minerva) was the most powerful deity on
the side of the Greeks during the siege.
Nereus was a sea-god, the father of the Nereids,
including Thetis, the mother of Achilles.
Aphrodite (Venus), sprung from the foam, was the
'^ Goddess of Love and Beauty " ; she sided with the
Trojans because Paris assigned the Apple of Beauty
to her in his famous judgment.
Ajaw^ son of Telamon, Eang of Salamis, is not to be
298 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
confused with the other, Ajax, the son of Oileus. He
was a head and shoulders taller than any other of
the Greek princes, but was conquered by Ulysses in
the contest as to who should succeed Achilles as the
chief warrior of the Greeks.
Laertes* Son is Odysseus, or Ulysses, King of
Ithaca, the most capable of the Greeks. The Pylean
sage is Nestor, the oldest and wiliest of the Greek
chiefs.
Teucer^ the half-brother of Ajax, the best archer of
the Greeks, founded a kingdom in Cyprus. He com-
manded the Argives under Diomed, son of the King of
Argos, who was after Achilles the bravest of all the
Greeks.
Meriones was one of the bravest Cretan chiefs at
the siege of Troy.
Dardan signifies Trojan: Dardanus was King of
Troy.
Argive Flame. Argos in the Iliad sometimes stands,
as here, for the whole of the Peloponnesus.
A Legend of Madrid. — ^This is a description of a bull-
fight. There is no authority for the assertion that
(rordon ever was in Spain.
Fauconshawe. — ^This is an imitation of the old Bolder
Ballads.
Rippling Water.
Cui BONO. Signifies " for what benefit " — ^to what purpose.
Bellona. — ^Bellona was the Goddess of War
The Song of the Surf.
Whisperings in Wattle Boughs. — ^''Father mine** is
Captain Adam Dumford Gordon. See Fytte III, of
**Ye Wearie Wayfarer," and chapter on Adam
Lindsay Gordon's father. '*' I remember Gordon
and that grand old man his father, who was so much
loved and respected," writes Mr. H, H. Hornby
A KEY TO ALLUSIONS IN POEMS 299
"O*, tell me, sister dear!'' Two of Gordon's
sisters, Ada Mary and Theodora, are buried in Trinity
Chuichyard, Cheltenham, with their father and
mother ; a third, Inez, married an Italian named Ratti,
and went to live at Nice. The sister referred to here
would be Ada Mary, as Theodora, like the other sister.
Amy Christian, died young.
" Oh, tell me, ancient friend ! " Mrs. Lees, of Wor-
cester, one of Crordon's most intimate surviving friends,
thinks that this must refer to Captain R. C. H.
Grordon, of Worcester. E. M. H. considers that Mr.
Pickemell, the ** Mr. Thomas " of Grand National
fame, must be intended, as he was Gordon's boyhood's
friend, and very ready with his fists.
*' O whisper, buried love ! " No trace has been dis-
covered to this allusion.
CONFITEOE.
SuMLiOHT OK THE Sea. — " Who slept with heaps of Persian
slain'' This refers to the annihilation of the three
hundred victorious Spartans at Thermopylse.
"' This night with Plato shall we sup." Commenting
on this phrase one of the most famous Oxford tutors
of the whole generation says : *^ I am inclined to think
that the phrase ^ This night with Plato we shall sup,'
is a good instance of the mistakes into which a man,
who is no classical scholar, may fall if he plunges into
classical allusions. Of course there may be, as you
suggest, a phrase in common use which would give
point to the allusion. It had caught my attention
before. My belief is that Plato is merely put for ^ good
company ' ; and that the ^ sup ' is an allusion to
the Symposiiun (there is a dialogue by Plato called
the Symposium), at which there were present
Socrates, Aristophanes, Agathon, who I think was
host, and Eryximachus (the most celebrated physician
of his day at Athens ; he treated Aristophanes at the
800 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
supper for hiccough), and other distinguished men.
So that the supper recorded by Plato mi^^t just
suggest the phrase, * We shall sup in good company —
with Plato himself.' The reason I think that Lindsay
Gordon's is no more recondite allusion, the possibility
of which I do not deny, is this : he puts the words
into the mouth of Leonidas, who must have lived
roughly one hundred years before Plato. The battle
of Thermopylfls was fought in 480 b.c.» and Plato
was not bom till more than fifty years later.
Therefore for Leonidas in 480 B.C. to say ^This
night with Plato we shall sup,' speaking in the spirit
of prophecy long before Plato was bom, suggests an
inadequate conception of dates and possibOities."
Delilah was a courtesan of the higher dass, living
in the Valley of Sorek, who was bribed by the Philis-
tines to betray Samson. The story is told in the Book of
Judges, chap. xvi. She got Samson to confide to her
that he would lose his strength if his hair was cut off,
and then, while he was asleep, shore it off and delivered
him to his enemies.
From Lightning and Tempest. — ^This is a quotation
from the Litany in the Church of England prayer
book : ** From lightning and tempest ; from plague,
pestilence, and famine; from battle and murder.
Good Lord deliver us."
WoRifWOOD AND NIGHTSHADE. — ^Anuie has not been
identified. The poem fits in with the poem printed in
Mr. Howlett Ross's Memoir of Adam Lindsay Gordon,
under the title of " The Old Station." Li " The Old
Station " the poet makes a chain of wild flowers and
twists them about the heroine's neck. And in '' Worm-
wood and Nightshade" he speaks of *' One shred of
your broken necklace, one tress of your pale gold hair."
And the scenery in both poems is sufficiently alike.
Gordon seems to have written '' The Old Station " for
Mrs. Lauder*
A KEY TO ALLUSIONS IN POEMS 801
Ab8 Lokga. — Ars Umga vita brevis signifies, ^^Art is
long : life is short/'
The Last Leap. — No trace has been discovered to this
allusion, though its subject might so easily have
happened in Gordon's life.
QuABE Fatioasti. — ^Thc words signify ** Why hast thou
wearied me ? '' The same poem is printed on p. 214
of Gordon's Poems under the title " Whither Bound."
HipPODROMANiA, or '^ Whiffs from the Pipe," signifies
"' RaceH^ourse madness."
Part L Visiana in the Smoke. BeU is BeWa Life
in Melbourne^ a Melbourne paper for which Gordon
wrote a number of his poems.
Playboy was a b.g,, belonging to Mr. M. Pender.
Omen was one of the best brood mares owned by
Mr. C. B. Fisher. When he broke up his stud she was
raffled like Seagull, Fishhook, Lady Heron, and Fly.
Hurtle Fisher, his brother, who had sold oS his horses in
1866, won Omen and bought others from people who
had won them. Fishhook was drawn by a company
of bookmakers. The sold horses were led past the
grave of Fisherman, the ancestor of most of them,
^^ Though the Turf is green on Fisherman's Grave,"
alludes to his grave at Maribymong, where Mr. Fisher
had his stables, and the raffle took place.
Shorthotue was undoubtedly Dr. Shorthouse of
Carshalton, Surrey, a great authority on race-horse
breeding with a great antipathy to what he called
*^ the accursed Blacklock blood." He was the original
founder of the Sporting Times, and was imprisoned
for libelling the late Duke of Beaufort therein. He
sold the paper to the present owner, Mr. John Corlett
(Note by Mr. Finch Mason). Gordon apparently
differed from Dr. Shorthouse on the subject of the
*^ Blacklock " horses, as Nolan rode one of them at
the time of his marvellous exploit with the Berkeley
Hounds
802 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Lantern^ a horse which won the Melboume Cup
in 1864, was owned by H. Fisher; aged 8 years,
weight 6st. 8lb. ; ridden by Davis ; time 8.52. Won
the y.R.C. Derby 1864, 1^ miles; rider SimpscHi;
time 2.58.
The Barb won the Melbourae Cup 1866 ; owned by
J. Tait; aged 8 yrs., weight 6st. lUb; rider W.
Davis; time 8.48; distance 2 miles. It won the
A. J.C. Derby 1866, 6 st., rider C. Stanley ; time 2.48.
It won the Champion Stakes 1867 ; weight 7st. lib. ;
time 5.88 ; and the Sydney Cup in 1868 and 1869.
Part I. — And Exile plays. Exile after winning the
Ballarat Cup, when being led back to the scales tot the
jockey to weigh in, suddenly fell down, and in a few
seconds expired, whether of arsenic, as alleged, or
apoplexy.
Part II. — Blueshin, A gr. g. belonging to Mr.
Scott, which won the Selling Steeplechase at the
Ballarat Turf Club Autumn Meeting of 1868. He
was third in the Ballarat Spring Meeting of 1865, in
the chief race, won by Gordon on Ballarat.
Tory Boy won the Melboume Cup 1865. He be-
longed to Mr. Dowling and afterwards to Mr. M. P.
Lewis. Aged; weight 7st. ; rider Kavanagh; time
8.44; owner — ^Marshall.
Seagull, owned by C. B. Fisher, won the V.R.C.
Derby 1866 ; rider Morrison ; time 8.4. It also won
the Oaks 1866 ; rider Morrison ; time 2.55.
^Mr. C. B. Fisher, brother of Mr. Hintle Fisher,
mentioned above, a leading South Australian squatter,
owned besides Seagull, Fishhook, winner of the
Champion and the Sydney Cup 1867; Angler, winner
of the V.R.C. Derby 1865; Lady Heron, Sylvia
Midnight, Typo and Kingfisher, winner of the Sydney
Cup in 1877.
Strop won the Champion Stakes 1864. Owned by
W. Field ; weight 8st. 51b. ; time 5.55.
A KEY TO ALLUSIONS IN POEMS 808
Tim Whiffler won S.A. J.C. Derby 1865. Owner Mr.
O. Adcock, afterwards owned by Mr. E. de Mestre;
rider Jones; time 2.68. Tim Whiffler won the Mel-
bourne Cup 1867. Tim Whiffler won the Australian
Cup and theA. J.C.MetropolitanStakes 1867 ; time 8.88.
Davis: there are two Davises. S. Davis, who
won the Adelaide Cup on Australian Bush 1872, the
South Australian Stakes in 1875, and the Oaks in 1874,
on GasUght; and W. Davis, who won the Melbourne
Cup in 1866, on The Barb.
Yattendon won the Sydney Cup, two miles, in
1866; weight 8st. 4lb. ; time 8.48.
Part II. — ^Th£ Fields of Colebaine. BaUarat,
a famous horse owned by Gordon. It was his steeple-
chase victories on Ballarat in December 1865 which
made his name in Australian sporting circles. He
parted with him in April 1866. Gordon was third
on Ballarat to Ingleside and Blueskin in the Great
Western Steeplechase at Coleraine.
King Alfred (see Turner and Sutherland), not the
King Alfred who won the Sydney Cup in 1871 after
Gordon's death.
*' According to Cocker " was a saying in Murphy's
comedy. The Apprentice^ which became a proverb.
Cocker was the author of an Arithmetic in the reign
of Charles II.
Archer, The tradition is that Gordon invented this
name in memory of his old friend William Archer of
Prestbury, who won the Grand National in 1858, and
was the father of the immortal Fred Archer. But
Mr. de Mestre had a jockey named Archer in
Australia.
Part III. — Cbedat JuDiEUS Apella. — The Cham-
pion is the great three mile race at Melbourne.
Smith is probably the Smith who won the Hunt Club
Cup at Melbourne in 1871 with a horse ridden by
H. Malcom.
804 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
The Hook is perhaps Fishhook, owned by C. B.
Fisher, which won the Champion Stakes at Melbourne
1867, and won the Sydney Cup 1867. Its sire was
the famous Fisherman. The Australasian (" Peeping
Tom "), says, ^^ The great Fishhook's value in the eyes
of a Moffat was equal to a fair-sized sheep station."
Horace^ SadreSj I. v. 100. Apella is here the type
of the credulous Jew — ^almost extinct.
SeaguUy the horse belonging to C. B. Fisher men-
tioned above.
The Barbi the famous horse owned by Tait, men-
tioned above.
Tom SayerSy one of the most famous prize fighters
in the history of the Ring. Gordon used to box with
Tom Sayers when he was being trained for one of his
earlier fights by Tom Oliver, with George Reeves, the
riding-school master, for his principal backer. GiHxion
though only seventeen years old was tall and well-knit,
and soon became more than a mere ** chopping block,'*
says '* Small Hopes."
BiU Bainge was a Welshman. He was called Pill,
which degenerated into Bill. His real name was
Benjamin, and he was called Pill Benjamin Bainge.
There are prints of Sayers's fights with Bainge. Bainge
was rather a disappointment; he did not come oil
as well as was expected in his fight with Sayers. A
Captain Carruthers took him up and made him his
land-agent. Tom Sayers was trained for his terrific
fight with Harry Paulson at Tom Oliver's place
at Priestbury. Mr. Holman, who holds the same posi-
tion in Cheltenham steeplechasing circles as Tom
Oliver held in his day, remembers seeing Oliver
walking Tom Sayers about on Cleeve HiU. Gordon
probably had seen Bainge sparring with Sayers at
Prestbury ; he speaks as if he had done so, and The
Barb's expression reminded him of Sayers's when he
looked at Bainge.
A KEY TO ALLUSIONS IN POEMS 805
Stow was the Attorney-General of South Australia,
defeated by Gordon when he was elected for the
district of Victoria. He afterwards became a judge
and died in 1878 (Randolph Isham Stow).
Baker* Sir Samuel Baker, the explorer.
Stanley was a jockey who rode The Barb in the
A.J.C. Derby of 1866, and most of Mr. J. Tait's horses.
He won the Melbourne Cup in 1868 with Mr. Tait's
Glencoe, and the A.J.C. Derby in 1867 with Mr.
Tait's Fireworks.
Davis. See above.
Filgate. Mr. W. Filgate, who owned Glenormiston,
winner of the Adelaide Cup, and won the V,R.C.
Derby in 1878.
D—G—Y. This is J. W. Doughty. And L—N.
is Major Lyon, S.M. These two were Justices at
Mount Gambier (F. Vaughan).
Bell is BeIVs Messenger,
W — N. is said to stand for Wilson.
Part IV. Banker's Dream. — Gordon owned
Cadger in 1868, and won several races on him. Ingle-
side was a good steeplechase horse trained by Gordon
and beaten by him on The Babbler on March 27,
1860, the last race he won.
Banker was a steeplechaser belonging to Major
Robins, who lived in Melbourne and bought Australian
horses for the Indian Government in those days.
Gordon rode for him. Major Robins lived and raced
in Melbourne.
Western belonged to Mr. P. Sweeney, and won the
GreatNorthemSteepIechaseattheV.R.C.Meeting,1868.
In September 1865, Gordon won the Grand Annual
Steeplechase of the South Australian Jockey Club
with Cadger, which then belonged to Mr. J. C. James.
In 1868 he won the Selling Steeplechase at Melbourne
on Cadger, now belonging to him. He gives a picture
of himself in this poem.
806 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
" All loosely he's striding* the amateurs riding
All loosely, some reverie locked-in
Of 'a vision in smoke,* or 'a wayfaring bloke,'
His poetical rubbish concocting."
Gordon sold Cadger for £40 after the Selling Race.
Part V. Ex Fumo Dare Lucem (i. e. out of the
smoke to give light). — ^The race described is the
Melbourne Cup of 1867. Tait was the owner of The
Barb mentioned above^ one of the most famous horses
of Australia. He also owned Florence, which won
the Australian Oaks in 1870; Rose d' Amour, which
won the Australian Oaks in 1873; Amendment,
Goldsborough, and Fireworks, which won the A.J.C.
Derby in 1867.
The Gull is Seagull, mentioned above.
Bylongf owned by Mr. J. Lee, won the A.J.C.
Metropolitan Stakes in 1866. Tim is Tim WhiflBer.
A Vicious Cross-Counter. These two verses contain
some of the many allusions Gordon makes in his poems
to boxing. See the chapters on " Jem Edwards/*
The Roll of the Kettledrum. — ^This poem was inspired
by the Charge of the Light Brigade at Balaclava.
The two verses commencing *^ One was there leading
by nearly a rood " {i. e. by a quarter of an acre)
describe Nolan's death. For Nolan vide chapter on
** Gordon in the Cotswolds." There's a very ime
description of Nolan's death in Kinglake's History of
the Crimea. Most of the names in this poem seem to
be imaginary, but Elrington was the name of some
relatives of (k>rdon ; one of them is mentioned in one
of (yordon's letters to Charley Walker, ^^ I lounged
about Worcester with the Captain on Tuesday morning ;
went to see Elrington, who was on the parade ground
with the militia, but did nothing of consequence."
The Dedication to Bush Ballads and Galloping
Rhymes. — ^The Author of Hohnby House is, of course,
the famous novelist, Whyte Melville, who was one of
A KEY TO ALLUSIONS IN POEMS 807
the first persons in the Old Country to recognise the
genius of Adam Lindsay Gordon. He had written
about the poet in Baily^s Magazine. This poem shows
the influence of Kendall, the other chief poet of
Australia, more than any other of Gordon's poems.
The Sick Stockrider. — ^This poem is the Euthanasia of
Adam Lindsay Gordon. The Ned of the poem, who
has so long defied commentators, was Mr. Edward
Bright, who is, I believe, still living in Queensland.
He and his brother John, author of a little book of
poems called Wattle Blossoms and WUd Flowers^
and his sister, Mrs. E. A. Lauder, were among Gordon's
first intimate friends in South Australia. Mrs.
Lauder had the wattles planted round his grave, and
had the tomb kept up at her own expense till 1900,
when the Australian Literature Society took over its
care. Nobody has worked more unremittingly to keep
the memory of the poet green. When the poffet died
Edward Bright, who had been his rival in his early
steeplechasing days, wrote the following poem in his
memory —
IN AFFECTIONATE REMEMBRANCE OF
ADAM LINDSAY GORDON.
(Composed by Edward Bright, Flinders River, N. Queensland.)
" We met, and many years are gone — what sorrows, bitter strife
Have passed since we, so happy then, so young, and full of life,
Rode in the bush, or on the turf in colours bright and gay I
Oh ! who could think those happy days would ever pass away 1
We met as friends, so happy then — o'er hurdle, by the stand,
And often at the winning post our horses each did land;
For we were often in the fray together, side by side
While others and their horses were running rather wide.
We met each season, for a time; but years have passed away
And changed full many things around that once appeared so gay.
Where are thy colours ? Now aside. No longer in the meet
We see that form or smiling fcMse we often used to greet.
X2
808 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Thou art away : long absent; a friend, where one bo kind
Than you, my dear old Gordon, none truer will we find!
With all thy faulto, if one you had, few dearer friends than thee.
And years will pass before again the like of you we see.
Thy saddle; it is empty; thy whip is hung aside;
No more now after cUngo will we together ride.
Thy racing days are oyer — ^thou art but just before.
And I will follow in the race as in the days of yore.
You are ahead — ^long passed us by; the judge is at His stand.
To say that you have won the race unto that better land.
But we will meet when all is done— «ach race in life is o'er
We'll join in love that race above to meet and part no more."
MooRABiNDA, OF Moorabinta, is a ^^ station " in the Gordon
country of South Australia.
The Sick Stockbideb was written while Gordon was
staying with Mr. Riddoch of Yallum, in January or
February, 1869. Mr. Alexander Sutherland thus
describes its composition: "It was the most pro-
ductive poetic time of his life. On his previous visit
he had taken a whimsical fancy to a gnarled old gum-
tree that stood in a sunny paddock a few hundred
yards from the house. After breakfast he used to
climb it, and sit in a natural arm-chair upon a crooked
limb. There he would fill and smoke successive bowls
of the old clay pipe, and those who were curious might
see him from time to time jot down lines in pencil on
a paper spread upon the branch or sometimes on his
hat. He never had any thought upon the time, and
when the meals came round he generally had to be
specially summoned, whereupon he would slide down
the trunk and apologize for causing delay*
" It^was here he wrote ' The Sick Stockrider,' though
nearly a year passed ere he printed it. Seated on his
gum-tree, he looked out over some of the localities
mentioned in the poem, and thought of men who had
inhabited the district in the ^old colonial days/
never again to return."
Gordon had a great friend called Sylvester, who died
A KEY TO ALLUSIONS IN POEMS 809
a few months ago in Coleraine, Victoria. Mr. Mount,
Gordon's partner in the livery-stable fiasco at Ballarat,
summed up Gordon as ** a good stockrider," *' Ay^ we
had a glorious gallop after Starlight and his gang.^^
Compare the poem called " Wolf and Hound."
Rolf Boldrewood, the eminent Australian novelist,
gives the following information about Starlight.
" Starlight," though he is not and cannot be a portrait
of any single colonial outlaw, in real life is sufficiently
natural to consistently represent in both his conduct
and adventures much that was typical of Australian
bushranging forty years ago — and later. . . . Some
of his characteristics, and at least one of the concluding
episodes of the story, were suggested by the career of
a New South Wales horse-stealer who became known
as Captain Moonlight. So much is certain. Ralph
Boldrewood has himself related his reminiscences of
Moonlight and his end.
^' Among other horses he stole was a mare called
Locket, with a white patch on her neck. We had all
seen her. This animal brought about his downfaU,
and he was actually killed on the Queensland borders
in the way I have described in ' Robbery under Arms/
Before that he had had some encounters with Sergeant
Wallings or (Gorring), and this day, when Wallings
rode straight at him, he said, ^ Keep back if you're
wise, Wallings, I don't want your blood on my head,
but if you must.' . . . But Wallings rode at him
at a gallop. Two of the troopers fired point blank
at Moonlight and both shots told. He never moved,
but just lifted his rifle. Wallings threw up his arms
and fell off his horse a dsdng man. As Moonlight
was sinking the leader of the troopers said, * Now you
may as well tell us what your name is.' But he shook
his head and died with his secret."
*^ He was a gentlemanly fellow, probably one of that
unhappy class of young Englishmen of good birth
and no character who are exiled to the Colonies for
810 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
their sins, and there often acquire new vices or sink
into obscurity."
But this cannot be Gordon's Starlight, for ^^ Robbery
under Arms" was written eighteen years after
Gordon's death. And in 1888, 1 well remember seeing
in the domain at Paramatta an old horse which, local
tradition said, was kept there by the Government,
because it had belonged to the celebrated bushranger,
Captain Starlight. It was remarkably tame, and had
a trick of coming up to any one who was reading
a newspaper and suddenly devouring the pap^. It
always ate any newspaper it could get hold of.
^' Lei me Slumber in the HoUow where the WatUe Blossoms
Wave.^* There is a large wattle-tree, given by Mrs.
E. A. Lauder, growing above Gordon's grave in the
cemetery at Brighton, near Melbourne. The 1911
summer number of the Melbourne Atisiralasian had
as a supplement a beautiful picture of Gk>rdon's
grave. The lines —
** For good UDdone and gifts miBBpent and reaolations vain
'Tib somewhat late to trouble. This I know —
I should live the same life over, if I had to live again;
And the ohanoes are I go where most men go,'*
are Gordon's auto-epitaph written in the year before
he put an end to his stormy existence.
This poem as first written had an additional verse.
Mr. Alexander Sutherland says —
^^ It was perhaps a pity that, ere printing this poem,
he yielded to the suggestion mcule by one of his
acquaintances of the Colonial Monthly staff to omit
the last verse from his manuscript copy. It originally
ended thus —
'' I donH suppose I shall, though I feel like sleeping sound ;
That sleep they say is doubtful. True; but yet
At least it makes no difference to the dead man underground
What the living men remember or forget.
A KEY TO ALLUSIONS IN POEMS 811
Enigmas that perplex us in the world's unequal strife.
The fnture may ignore or may reveal;
Yet some as weak as water, Ned, to make the best of life.
Have been to face its worst as true as steel."
I cannot agree with him. It seems to me altogether
unworthy of the rest of the poem. This verse had
been preserved for us by Mr. J. J. Shillinglaw, who
was present when the matter was discussed.
The Swimmeb. — Gordon, like his favourite Swinburne,
was an admirable swimmer. In his last days, when
he was living at Brighton, just before he shot him-
self. Turner and Sutherland tell us that ** Every
morning, summer or winter, he walked down to the
beach for his plunge into the sea ; he was a powerful
swimmer, and, regardless of sharks, he would head
half a mile out into the bay before thinking of turning
back. When remonstrated with, on one occasion,
for having gone so far that he was all but spent, ere
he touched again a solid base he answered that if
Death came without his actually seeking it, he at
least would have no cause for complaint."
Fboh the Wreck. Mr. F. Vaughan says that Gordon
does not describe his own ride, but one made by
Adam Farteh, a stockman, a bold rider who was killed
in the hunting-field over a fence at Mount Gambier.
But Sir Frank Madden, a very intimate friend of
Gordon's, speaks of Gordon having made the ride (see
p. 489). This poem was undoubtedly suggested by
Browning's " How they brought the News from
Ghent," and as a description of a ride is infinitely
superior. We know that Tenison Woods lent Gordon
a volume of Browning's poems, and Tenison Woods
was the Koman Catholic Priest in the district. '* Small
Hopes " says '^ this is a transcription of a holograph
letter to a friend in England. Or was it Wolf and
Hound ?). Both poems describe episodes in Gordon's
812 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
actual life." There is an account of this poem in
Mrs. Lauder's letters.
Acrobat was the name of a steeplechase horse which
belonged to Mr. George Watson, who hunted the
Melbourne Hounds. Mrs. Lauder, who was living
in the district at the time and gives an account of
the poem in her letters, maintains that Gordon did
the ride from the wreck himself, and that her
brother John, the Jack of the poem, author of the
little volume of poems called WatUe Blossoms and
Wild Flowers^ referred to above, was with him.
According to her, Bradshaw Young, the policeman,
was with him too. The Alec of the poem is Alec
Macpherson, who was killed in the Cooraminta Yards
by a steer while he was trsdng to put a hat on its
horns for a bet. Her account of the wreck is as
follows : ^^ It was in the same year and month as
the Royal Charter with a lot of our diggers on board
was wrecked on the Welsh Coast.
*' On the 6th of August, 1859, the S.S. AdmeUa was
wrecked on our coast; twenty-three were saved out
of 118. Our dear Gordon was horse-breaking on
Livingstone station, three natives walked up in the
night with firesticks — ^big one ship in rocks — ^it was
between two rocks that we called the Carpenters, the
way the sea broke on it only one mile from the shore.
If you can get a map of our coast, look for Lake
Bonney, the wreck was right opposite — ^twenty-five
miles from the lighthouse on Cape Northumberland
and thirty from Mount Gambler, read Gordon's
poetry * JYom the Wreck ' — ^they went right between
two reefs, it was on a Saturday it broke into three
pieces — ^and, strange to say, three of the horses
swam on shore. One was Fisher's, the Barber, and
a lot clung to the spars. The steamer Haviland
passed them close but never saw them, and in the
night the Mail Steamer Bombay passed them so dpse
A KEY TO ALLUSIONS IN POEMS 818
that they heard the rush of the water and the beat of
her engines. When the blaeks took the news in the
night it was about twenty-six miles, I think our poor
natives, that was on Sunday morning. Gordon got
the news — only one Telegraph Station in the Mount.
He rode his beautiful mare until she fell under him,
a beautiful beast; he sent a telegram to Messrs.
Ormerod & Co., who sent their Ant. Steamboat and
to Melbourne and Adelaide, Victoria and to Port-
land; they sent their lifeboat; two sailors washed
ashore on spars, a man went from the lighthouse.
So I do not know who sent first, but I know Gordon
sent to Messrs. John and Charley Ormerod first,
Ck>rdon came back on Monday with his friend Brad-
shaw Young, Constable — ^the Lftdy Bird came —
George Fisher was drowned, his brother Hurtle Fisher
was saved. Rochfort and a Miss Ledwith. She clung
to the ropes while the rest of the others was washed
off, and when the lifeboat went under she clung to the
ropes, the waves went over her three times before the
Portland lifeboat went beneath her, poor thing.
She was only the female saved. There was one Annie
Girdler, a married woman. Her baby died in her
arms, and when they took it from her she jumped
into the sea. Bradshaw Young and Gordon buried
her on the beach there. Then there was the Corio^
Gordon went out in her boat, but was washed back ;
drove right on the beach — ^the sea rose up every time
like a wall, then we went with others, my brother and
several others. AdmeJla lifeboat, that was on Saturday
morning, eight day, but they were capsized near
the shore — just fancy the agonizing scenes, the human
beings standing on the beach, looking at people
falling off one by one, no food and no clothes. Mr,
McEwen was part owner, they said, you will scarcely
credit this, but we saw many wrecks on that fearful
coast."
814 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Mr. W. J. Sowden, the editor of the Adelaide
Register^ a very careful collector of information about
Gordon and his poetry, gives the name of the wrecked
vessel as the steamer Gaikenberg^ on Carpenter's
Rocks near Mount Gambler. It was about this poem
that ** Small Hopes " wrote one of his biting criticisms
in the Sporting and Dramatic. He asks : ^' Did Mr.
Sladen not hear of the indignation Gordon felt at
having his expressions altered for the worse by the
compositor, such as the excerpt * From the Wreck '
exhibits; for instance, when he is galloping over
the wide heath, and a big post and rail had to be
negotiated, the Australian printer thus puts it —
** I hung to her head — ^touched her flanks with the spun,"
This should be as all horsemen know —
*' I just felt her mouth — ^touched her flank with the spur.**
The idea of Gordon's hanging to his mare's head in a
ride at timber is simply preposterous.
'* Small Hopes " says of the last line,
" How muoh for her hide T she had never worn shoes ! "
This apparently heartless expression is in reality most
pathetic.
(Jordon's grief was too deep for utterance, so he hid
it in cynicism. It is like the remark of Dean Swift
which was found after his death written on a paper
packet containing a lock of Stella's hair. ** Only a
woman's hair." Thackeray, with all the hatred of the
brutal dean, even yields to him the real delineation
of sorrow, love and remorse, in this brief legend.
** From the Wreck " formerly concluded with the
following lines wisely omitted by Marcus Clarke —
»(
There are songs yet ansang, there are deeds yet untold.
Concerning yon wreck that must baffle my ken.
Let Kendal write legends in letters of gold
Of deeds done and known among children of men."
A KEY TO ALLUSIONS IN POEMS 815
From the Wreck was written while Gordon was staying
with Mr. John Riddoch at Yallum at the beginning
of 1869.
Wolf and Hound. This poem also is believed by Turner
and Sutherland to have been written at the same time»
at the Riddochs\ It describes the killing of a notorious
bushranger (named Marshall), and it has been the
custom to assert that the poem is autobiographical
and that (Jordon received a £500 Government reward
for the exploit. But I imagine that we should have
heard a good deal about the spending of that £500
if it had been true. Mr. P. Evans Lewin, the late
librarian of the Adelaide Public Library in South
Australia and now Librarian at the Royal Colonial
Institute writes : " Possibly if you were able to
supply me with a dcUe I might be able to do more. I
have searched the police returns for South Australia
from 1858, but can find no record either of the offer
of a reward of £500 or the capture of any bushranger —
but possibly I may have overlooked it in the great
mass of proclamations, police returns, etc.
" The only case in which Gordon appears to have
apprehended a man for felony was that of Alex.
Macquire who was apprehended by Inspector Short
and P. C. Gordon for stealing a horse from Robert
Smith of Glencoe. The case was dismissed Nov. 11,
1855.'*
But Miss Frances Gordon, the poet's surviving
cousin says that ^^ A friend of theirs, who came from
Australia, told them about Lindsay having tracked
the bushranger to a cave and fought him in the
dark. Miss Gordon says that Lindsay was absolutely
devoid of fear and that it was a terrible pity he could
not have been a soldier, which, of course, was rendered
impossible by his eyesight.
/ struck with my left hand then. It must be remem-
bered that Gordon was a magnificent boxer who had
816 ADAM I^INDSAY GORDON
put on the gloves repeatedly with Jem Edwards and
the famous Tom Sayers.
DeTe.
"We had not sought for that we found;
He lay as dead men only lie
With wan cheek whitening in the sky.
Through the wild heath flowers, white and red.'*
This sounds like a prophesy of the discovery of
Gordon's own body on that June morning of 1870,
described by Turner and Sutherland on p. 69.
Australia is famous for its beautiful epacris heaths.
As far as I remember there are plenty of them in
bloom in June, the winter month in which Gordon
took his life. — D. S.
How WE Beat the Favourite. — "How we Beat the
Favourite, — a lay of the Loamshire Hunt Cup," was
published in the Australasian^ June 12, 1869,
anonymously.
Aye^ Squire said Stevens. — George Stevens was the only
man who ever rode five Grand National winners or
who won the Grand National two years running on
the same horse. He never had a fall in the Grand
National. He was bom in the same year as Gordon
and met his tragic death a year after Gordon. After
his death one of (cordon's poem$ was found among
his papers. Bell's Life in London called him ^' the
best of the sort." The horse which threw Stevens
and mortally injured him riding down a lane near
Cheltenham was called The Clown, the tradition is
that Stevens named it after the horse in his friend's
poem, "How we Beat the Favourite." George
Stevens's son writes of this race — I feel satisfied
that Gordon wrote "How we Beat the Favourite,"
after a real and not an imaginary race. It is far too
realistic even for Gordon to have written only from
his imagination.
JHcJc NfviUe has not been identified.
• ••
• • •
•V •'
• » • •
A KEY TO ALLUSIONS IN POEMS 817
The man who saw Lindsay Gordon's first attempt
at steeplechasing traced out the Knoverton Race-
course on the 18th of February, 191 1, as the place
where Gordon beat the Favourite. He had a stroke
two or three days after and died suddenly and most
painlessly, as he had always wished. He saw Fred
Archer's first race and Fred came home crying because
he did not win.
Grordon rode Louisa, late Lallah Rookh (her name is
said to have been changed in consequence of Gordon's
Worcester escapade) in the Berkeley Hunt Cup in
the Cheltenham Steeplechases of 1852 for horses which
had been fairly hunted with any hounds.
IseiUt is believed to represent Lallah Rookh, though
Lallah Rookh was a black horse.
Reginald Murray and most of the horses are prob-
ably fictitious names. For Kerr^ see p. 189.
^^ And gaoe Abd-el-Kader at Aintree nine paunds.^^
Abd-d-Kader did win the Grand National in 1850
and again in 1851, and made several other strenuous
attempts to win. Bob James, Tom Oliver's old jockey
at Prestbury, was second in the Grand National on
Minos and third on Maurice Daley. He remembers
Louisa but not Gordon.
" How We Beat the Favourite " is supposed to have
been run on the Knoverton Course where the Chelten-
ham Hunt Steeplechases were held in 1847, but not
again because it was too difficult.
" AU through the wei pasture where foods of last year
StiU hkered, they clotted my crimaon toith clay ^^
There ar6 springs in the bank by Knoverton House
and heavy clay soil.
" The lane stopped Lycurgus.^^ This is Knoverton
Lane.
^^ And Man-Trap and Mermaid refused the stone
watt." There is a stone wall between Knoverton
Lane and Turner's orchard.
did ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
^' My cap XDOS knocked off by the hazel-tree bough.'^
It was really an apple-tree in Turner's orchaid which
killed the Tramp in 1847.
The Turn of the Flag was on Hewlett's hUl.
In this Knovertcm steeplechase Tom Oliver broke
his stirrup-leather, but finished the race without it.
Grordon won a hurdle race at Tewkesbury with
Lallah Rookh and is entered as her owner.
^^ She rose when I hit her. I saw the stream glitter.^*
The stream by Knoverton House was stanked and
had gorse on the take-off side.
^^ A fence xvith stone coping.^* This is the wall on
the left of Knoverton Lane (see illustration* p. 200).
*' We diverged round the base of the hill.** The noble
hill called Cleeve. The race ended near Queen's
Wood.
'" I flogged up the straight.** Concerning this '' Small
Hopes " says, ^^ After describing how he rode a punish-
ing race on that generous futid game mare, Gk>rdon
says when he landed close to the Favourite after the
last jump, * I flogged up the straight ' (an ill-judged
piece of jockey-ship to say the least of it). In fact
through all his performances and narratives real and
supposititious in the saddle he and his heroes all ride
their horses to death, though there is no want of
remorse when once the vital spark has left the poor
over-ridden creatures. About the last verse of this
poem Mr. Pickemell, the Mr. Thomas of Grand
National Fame, says, ^ Kissing Cup is not in it with
that last steeplechase verse of Gordon's.' "
" Clarke said * The mare by a short head.' " For Clarke,
see pp. 202, 208.
"How We Beat the Favourite" is evidently the
steeplechase in which Gordon rode Louisa at Frestbuiy
Farm in 1852, transferred to Knoverton just above
Prestbury, where Gordon must have seen the famous
steeplechase of 1847, which Mr. Holman won, beating
A KEY TO ALLUSIONS IN POEMS 819
Fred Archer's father on Daddy Long Legs by a length
Gordon's winning the race himself is a poet's licence.
At some steeplechases held at Tewkesbury, Sep-
tember 20 and 21, 1852, a hurdle race of three
sovs. each with 15 sovs. added was won by Mr.
Gordon's Louisa, aged. Mr. T. Golby's Comedy was
second. This seems to be the only record of a race
in England which Gordon won, though there appear
to be two others to his credit. Mr. Jessop thinks he
saw Gordon win a Hunt Cup at Prestbury, and Mr.
Harold Webb thinks he won a steeplechase over stone
walls at Birdlip. From this it would appear that he
did at one time own Louisa (late Lallah Rookh), the
mare he rode in the Berkeley Hunt Steeplechases at
Prestbury in 1852 and perhaps in 1858. This is the
mare he stole out of the stable of the old Plough Inn
at Worcester to ride in the Crowle Steeplechases.
The Road to Avernus. None of the names in this piece
have been identified. Though he belonged to a great
Scotch family, Adam Lindsay Gordon was never in
Scotland.
What Fair Reward had Achilles ? Achilles was the
bravest and best fighter of all the Greeks who were
besieging Troy.
Alcides — ^Hercules whose twelve labours are a
proverb.
" Consider the lilies how they grow : they toil not,
they spin not and yet I say unto you that Solomon in
all his glory was not arrayed like one of these." — ^Luke
vii. 27.
Doubtful Dreams. " WhcU visions under the stone lie.^^
The tradition is that this line refers to the graves of
his family in Trinity Churchyard, Cheltenham. His
father and mother died after he left England, but two
of his sisters, Ada Mary and Theodora, were buried
820 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
there before he left. This is one of the finest of
Gordon's poems.
The Rhyme of Joyous Garde ^ (Misspelt Guard in the
Massina edition). Joyeuse Garde or Garde-Joyeuse,
according to Brewer, was ^' The estate given by King
Arthur to Sir Launcelot of the Lake for defending
the Queen's honour against Sir Mador."
Verse 5. — Severn's shore. It must be remembered
that King Arthur's capital was Caerleon on the
Usky and that the Severn was a natural boundary
between the Saxons who had conquered Ikigland and
his Celts who were driven back into Wales and Coin-
wall and the Lake District.
Verse 11. — ^Lyonesse according to Brewer is the
''tract between Land's End and the Scilly Isles,
now submerged full forty fathoms under water.
Arthur came from this mythical country."
Verse 16. — " She had leisure for shame and sorrow.^^
Guinevere retired, after Arthur had discovered her
infidelity, into a convent at Amesbury in Wiltshire.
" When I rode against Saxon foes or Norse," King
Arthur represents the Celt resistance to the invaders
from Friesland and Jutland.
Verse 17. — '' In this living death must I linger and
die" Sir Lancelot also retired into a monastery.
Verse 18. " And that bright burden of burnished gold
Was it shorn when the church vows bound herf^*
Guinevere was buried at Glastonbury Abbey, and
when her tomb was opened her golden hair was
discovered quite perfect, but crumbled to dust soon
after its exposure to the air.
Verse 22. *' And one trod softly with aandaJTd feel —
Ah/ why are the stolen tvaters sweet f —
And one crept stealthily after.^^
This was Modred^ the nephew of King Arthur, who
^ Artozian aoholus spoil it Oard.
A KEY TO ALLUSIONS IN POEMS 821
»el{ whilst spying on Launcelot and Guinevere
seduced the latter when he was left in charge of her
and the Kingdom. He afterwards revolted against
Arthur, who was killed in crushing the revolt.
Verse 24. — Sir Melegrance. In the MacMillan edition
of the ^^ Morte D'arthur " he is called Sir Meliagaunce
or Meliagrance. He had always intended to steal the
queen, but fear of Launcelot prevented him. While
Launcelot was in disgrace he took her by an ambush.
Launcelot himself was ambushed while trying to rescue
her, but showed his miraculous powers. Sir Melia-
grance then impeached the Queen of High Treason,
and Arthur consented to have her burnt unless she
could find a champion to maintain her. In the nick
of time Sir Launcelot appeared and killed Sir Melia-
grance in single combat. Mr. C. J. Pumell, Sub-
Librarian of the London Library, points out that
Meliagrance, called also Mel, was likened by Professor
Rhys to Pluto, his realm in some of the legends being
called the Abode of the Dead.
Mador was a prince of Scotland, slain in single
combat by Sir Launcelot of the Lake when he accused
Queen Guinevere of poisoning. He was called Sir
Mador de la Porte. Arthur gave Launcelot the estate
of Joyeuse Garde, which has been identified with
Bamboro' Castle in Northumberland, as a reward.
Verse 26. — Gawaine. King Arthur's nephew, one
of the most famous of his knights. He figures largely
in Tennyson's '' Idylls of the King."
Verse 27.— The crime of Modred. This refers to the
revolt of Modred against King Arthur.
Verse 29. — The Dane or the Saaum. Arthur's wars
were against the Danes and the Saxons.
Last Verse. — ^Mrs. Filgate points out that there is a
strong religious element in Gordon's poems. Religion
amounted to almost a mania in his mother, and it is
possible that he was sent to Cheltenham College at
822 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
the tender age of seven years because it was opened
under the auspices of extreme Low Churchmen. For
a long time the meetings of its council were always
opened with a sort of bidding prayer.
The Three Friends was taken from a poem of Alfred
de Musset's.
A Song of Autumn. This was written for the little
daughter of Mr. Robert Power with whom Gordcm
spent the month of October and part of November
1868. Turner and Sutherland say those months " had
passed in a time of quiet recovery in the house of
Mr. Robert Power, for whose skill as an amateur rider
Gordon had a vast respect. The poet was always fcmd,
in a shy sort of way, of children, and the young folks
in the house found in him an ever-ready playmate.
A little girl of Mr. Power's, then aged five years, was
a close companion of his, and could be seen at odd
times of the day seated on the tall man's shoulder,
carried round the garden, while grave converse was
held betwixt them. One balmy afternoon in these
lengthening spring days, as they sat together on a
seat beneath a tree, the little girl asked him to gather
her a bunch of flowers, and began to moralize in
childish fashion about the poor blossoms that die
when you pluck them; but then they die too, if
you don't pluck them, for the scorching weather
comes and the flowers pass away. Hereupon the
poet fell into a train of meditation, and, while the
child played rotmd about, he wrote on a scrap of
paper the mournful lyric he called ^*A Song of
Autumn."
I have heard that this Miss Power is the wife of
Mr. A. C. Maclaren, the famous cricketer, who married
a daughter of Mr. Robert Power, but the dates hardly
seem to fit, if she was five years old in 1868. This
song has been set to music by Sir Edward Elgar. Mrs.
A KEY TO ALLUSIONS IN POEMS 828
«
Lees of Worcester, one of the greatest of Gordon's
surviving friends in this country, told Sir Edward
Elgar's mother how fond she was of these lines
and Sir Edward set them to music and had them
performed at one of the Worcester Festival concerts.
The Romance of Bbitomabt. In the last verse Gordon
has been blamed for making Usquebaugh rhjrme with
arCi but Dr. Kenealy, famous for his defence of the
Tichboume Claimant, who was a good Celtic scholar
and probably of Celtic extraction, defended the rhyme
and he was fond of reading this piece.
Laudahus is a contraction for Te Deum Laudamus — ^the
Latin heading of the Te Deum.
A Basket of Flowers. Miss Lizzie Biddoch, daughter of
the late John Biddoch of Yallum, one of the best
friends Gordon ever had in Austraha, asked him to
write a poem to go with " A Basket of Flowers,'*
which was to be sent to her aunt Mary, Miss Biddoch
(who is still hving in Scotland, now eighty-seven years
of age). Gordon left Yallum on the following day and
rode over the border forty miles to Casterton in
Victoria. He rested occasionally on the way under
the shade of a tree to write down the verses of this
poem as he composed them. From these pencil-
written scraps he wrote out a complete poem in ink
on his arrival in Casterton. It is inscribed '*Ad
Mabiam, Feb. 14th, 1869."
A Fragment. No note.
To MY SiSTEB.
'* My pmtnls bid me cross the food
My kindred frowned at f»e."
Gordon's father undoubtedly, as the poet's letters
prove, urged him to go to Australia, but Miss Frances
Gordon, his only surviving cousin, says that his family
never quarreUed with him, but liked him very much,
and the letter reproduced in facsimile, written by
Gordon to her father, suggests that they not only
Ya
824 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
liked him but sought his advice about a career in
Australia for one of his cousins. Australian writers
about Gordon say that his mother suffered from
religious mania, but the tradition in Worcester, where
the Gordon cult is stronger than at Cheltaiham, is
that she merely disliked the money wasted by him
and wanted it for herself and her daughters. The
verses '' I once had talents fit to win " and "" My friends
wiU miss a comrade^s face '' with the verse quoted
above are certainly borne out by Gordon^s letters to
his friend Charley Walker, printed in this volume.
'^ I loved a girl not long ago," and the two following
verses. These refer to Mrs. Lees, a lady living at
Worcester, and her own account of the episode is
to be found in the chapter entitled ^' The Romance
of Adam Lindsay Gordon."
"" There is a spot not far away " and the two following
verses. These must allude to Gordon's dead sister,
Ada Mary, who was buried in Trinity Churchyard
Cheltenham, but the poem appears to have been
written for a living sister, aUve when Gordon sailed
for Australia on August 17, 1858. If so she would
be his sister Inez, who married an Italian named
Ratti and went to live at Nice.
<i
But those who brand me with difligiace
Will scarcely dare to say
They spoke the taunt before my face
And went unscathed awayj
II
Gordon was always ready to square up to any one
over a supposed sUght. Fred Marshall, who knew
him well personally, says, commenting on these verses,
*^ That was true for Lindsay ; those who tackled him
were like the tarrier dawg who got hold of the wrong
tom-cat."
«(
What fears have I 7 What hope in life 7
What joys can I command 7
A few short years of toil and strife
In a strange and distant land 1
A KEY TO ALLUSIONS IN POEMS 825
When green grass sprouts above this day
(And that might be ere long)»
Some friends may read these lines and say,
The world has judged him wrong.'*
These verses read almost like a prophecy of Grordon's
seventeen years and untimely end in Australia, This
poem is said to have been found among Gordon's
papers after his death.
Ths Old Leaven. This poem is autobiographical.
Written after going to the Opera with his partner
in West Australia, Lambton L. Mount, just before
starting for W.A.
An Exile's Farewell. This poem was supplied to Temple
Bar by the late Arthur Patchett Martin, one of the
first to familiarize the British public with Gordon's
poems, as he was one of the first to discover and
proclaim the genius of Robert Louis Stevenson. He
was himself a delightful poet who wrote one of the
most charming poems ever published in Australia —
•* The Storm."
Mr. George Bentley, who edited Temple Bar at that
time, introduced this poem with these words. Among
the mass of letters I have received since the appearance
of the article in Temple Bar on an ^^ Australian Poet,"
testifying to the strange fascination of Gordon's
muse, came a communication from a lady who had
been a fellow passenger of his in the ship Julia which
sailed for Adelaide on August 7, 1858. This lady
remarks, ^' I urged him to write in my MS. book. He
was shy of doing so, saying that he had never tried his
hand at verse-making. However, he wrote the enclosed
verses — ^bis ffarst essay — ^in which you will recognise
his style." What caused my correspondent to detect
a poet in the exiled youth so moodily leaving **" home "
I cannot say. It is only another instance of the
superiority of women in the insight bom of sympathy.
826 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
In any case Gordon was not telling the truth when
he said he had never tried his hand at verse-makiiig,
because there are various witty verses in his letters
to Charley Walker which, though not dated, show
that they were written before he went to Australia.
They were not, however^ poems of the calibre of the
" Exile's Farewell."
^^ / see the same tall poplars stand beside the garden
doorJ^ Gordon is here speaking of 25, Priory Street,
Cheltenham, where his father lived during the latter
part of his life at Cheltenham. See pp. 148-9.
The poem was originally signed L. Gm Ship Julia,
1858. Fred Marshall says that this poem was reaDv
written to his friends and companions before he left
Cheltenham, so Gordon was probably romancing to
the lady on this point also.
Early Adieux. " No more than three in all who e'er xxfiU
think of me or heed what fate may me befall.^* Who
are these three ? His long-suffering father must have
been one of them. The other two must be selected
from Miss Gordon and her father, Mrs. Lees and
Charley Walker " For tho* I pleasure's paths have
run," etc. Cf . the letters to Charley Walker quoted
in this volume.
This poem is said by Fred Marshall to have beeo
written in 1850.
"Jfy mother is a stately dame^
Who oft tooiM chide with me.
She saUh my riot bringelh shame,
And stains my pedigree.**
This is distinctly according to the Cheltenham and
Worcester traditions, which said that she deeply
resented Gordon's scrapes and the expense he caused.
" My gentle sister's tears may fall." This must refer
to Inez, as the others were dead. The verse beginning,
*^ Thou too^ whose loving-kindness makes my resduti^
less^^^ refers to Mrs. Lees at Worcester. See notes on
A KEY TO ALLUSIONS IN POEMS 827
** An Exile's Farewell/' ** / outcast pass away,^* Miss
Frances Gordon, Lindsay's cousin, says that the family
never regarded him in the least as an outcast.
A Hunting Song.—" Like Oliver can ride:' Black Tom
Jliver, the famous trainer and steeplechase rider at
Prestbury, who has a chapter to himself in this book,
gave Gk)rdon his first mount in the trials on the
Prestbury race-course. Mr. Holland saw Gordon
dismount. "There now, you young devil, you've
rode a race." There is a splendid oil painting of
Oliver on a horse called Birmingham in the Stork
Hotel at Birmingham. This poem was written in
Cheltenham.
Bendigo was a famous prize fighter. His real name
was William Thompson. He became a preacher in
his later days and is said to have converted a rowdy
congregation by knocking them out. The inscrip-
tion on his grave at Nottingham is as follows —
" On earth he fought like any Lion
In Heaven he sings the songs of Zion."
One of his best known fights was with Ben Caunt.
Party spirit ran high amongst the spectators. Jem
Turner introduced them : " Ben Caunt, gentlemen ;
Bendigo^ gentlemen; both champions of England.
No applause, gentlemen. Mum as oysters, gentlemen.
If you please — ^time ! " That was something like
a set-to» and Bendigo gave Caimt a regular hammering,
and hit him just as he pleased.
To A Proud Beauty. This relates to an actual episode.
Lindsay and Charley Walker spent the night in a bam
near the great farm house at Broughton Hackett
where Mrs. Lees and her sister Sally, afterwards Mrs.
Walker, lived, so as to be the first people she and her
sister saw on Valentine's morning. The sister looked
out of the window and told them they[[were geese [
828 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
AsHTAROTH. Nothing much is known about this poem
except that it was published in 1867. As Tum^ and
Sutherland point out, ^* Ashtaroth " is in general
sentiment and handling closely akin to ^^ Faust."
Ashiarolh had practically no sale. The whole of
the 500 copies were left on Clarson and Massina*8
hands. It came out a few months after Sea Spray
and Smoke Drift. It has been set to music in an
opera by Mr. W. R. Furlong. " The Song of Thora "
was not written for "Ashtaroth," but incorporated
in it.
The poem commencing "All Night IVe Heard
the Marsh-Frog Croak" was found by a shepherd
in an old pair of trousers belonging to Crordon,
which the poet asked Mr. Lambton to give away
after he had left West Australia for good. At the
same time Grordon asked Mr. Mount to destroy a
whole portmanteau full of manuscripts, written
chiefly on lined blue foolscap, without reading
them. Probably many of Gordon's poems were
thus lost to the world, and Mr. Mount says that a
boxful of manuscripts were burnt by Gordon's
widow after his death to avoid the expense of
removing them.
CHAPTER XX
POEMS OF A. L. GORDON NOT INCLUDED IN THE
COLLECTED EDITION, EDITED BY MARCUS CLARKE
THE DEATH OF NELSON
(A FOIM of A L. Gordon's never published in any form, preserred by
Miss Frances Gordon in an album in which Gordon wrote it with his own
hands. Given by her permission.)
** I was midst the battlers echoing din
And the cannon's thundering roar.
When brave men fought to die or win
And the decks ran red with gore;
When the fleets of England, France and Spain
Were Joined in desperate fight,
When fell the leaden shot like rain
And flashed the cutlass bright.
When the iron ball's resistless sway
Through sheet and rigging passed.
And through the swelling sails made way
And split the towering mast;
When the tumult of the contest's swell
Reached to the shore
Twas then in victorjr's arms he fell —
He fell to rise no more.
And will he never, never rise,
That spirit bold and true;
Has he for ever dosed his eyes
And bid this world adieu?
And where, oh where shall England find
'Mong all her many brave
A soul so generous and so kind
In hotir of need to save.
Thou mays't on bygone times look back
With conscience bright and clear.
No mad ambition made thy track
A selfish vain career.
Thy^oountry's safety7thou didst guard,
329
8«0 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Her honour waa thy oare.
Her foeman's eourae thoa didst retard
And made her prospects fair;
And oouldst thou live and yet return
Baok to thy grateful land
I ween each English heart would bum
To clasp thee by the hand;
And highest honour thou wouldst hold
And most revered wouldst be
Midst all that loyal race and bold
The Saxon chivalry.
While England's lovely fair ones too
On thee would brightly smile,
And hail with joy the guardian true
• Of their unoonquered isle.
But no, alas, the thought is vain,
Thy course on earth is o'er.
And thou wilt never rise again
Nor see thy country more.
Yet wherefore shouldst thou be delayed
In this dark world of ours,
Whose brightest paths are marked with shade
And false its fairest flowers ?
The hero in his cabin lies.
While round him mutely stand
With throbbing hearts and tearful eyes
A sad but silent band;
But now his gallant mates have hurled
Destruction on their foes.
And through the fleet like lightning whirled
The shout of victory goes.
The conqueror gazed upon his sword:
' My earthly race is run *
Then faintly murmured, * Thank my God,*
'My duty I have done.*
The sun on high with golden light
Streaks tiirough the cabin now,
And for an instant flickers bright
On Nelson's pallid brow.
The dying man looked up and smiled.
One long look round him cast,
And from that scene of carnage with
The soul to heaven passed."
POEMS NOT IN COLLECTED EDITION 8«1
A GORDON POEM
Written for Miss Ri^dooh. Given for publication by George Riddoch,
Esq., ftnd reprinted from the Atuirdkuian.
ABGEMONE
«
Thb terrible night watoh is oyer,
I torn where I lie,
To eastward my dim eyes discover
Faint streaks in the sky;
Faint streaks on a faint light, that dapples
And dawns like the ripening of apples.
Day closes with darkness and grapples.
And darkness must die.
And the dawn finds us where the dusk found uS)
The quick and the dead;
Thou dawn staying darkness around us.
Oh, slay me instead.
Thou pitiless earth, that would sever
Twain souls, reuniting them never,
0, gape and engulph me for ever !
Oh, cover my head 1
The toils that men strive with stout-hearted.
The fears that men fly,
I have known them, but these have departed.
And those have gone by*
Men, toiling and straining and striving.
Are glad, peradventure, for living;
I render for life no thanksgiving,
Glad only to die.
For alike now to me are all changes.
Naught gladdens, naught grieves;
Alike now pale snow on the ranges,
Pale gold on the sheaves;
Alike now the hum of glad bees on
Green boughs, and the sigh of sad trees on
Sere uplands, the fall of the season.
And the fall of the leaves.
Alike now each wind blows the breesees
That kiss where they roam.
The breath of the March wind that freezes
In rime on the loam ;
882 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
The storm blast thst Ushes uid soomges.
And rends the white orest of the smgiBs,
As it sweeps with s thunder of dirges
Across the sea foam.
Alike now all rainfall and dewfall
Foul seasons and fair;
Let the rose on my path or the me fall,
I heed not nor care;
Nor for red light of dawn, nor for don light
Of dusk, nor for dazzle of sunlight
At noon, shall I seek light or shun light.
Seek warmth or shun glare.
Now for breaking of fast neither grateful.
Nor for quenching of thirst
In the dawn or the eventide hateful.
In the noontide aocurs't.
In the watch of the night, sleep forsaken
Till the sleep comes no watch shall rewaken.
Be the best things of life never taken.
Never feared be the worst.
Skies laugh, and buds bloom, and birds warble
At breaking of day;
Without and within on grey marble.
The light glimmers grey.
Ah, pale silent mouth, surely this is
The spot where death strikes and life misses.
Warm lips pressing cold lips, waste kisses.
Clay cold on cold clay.
Through sunset and twilight and nightfall
And night watches bleak.
We have lain thus, and broad rays of light fall
And flicker and streak.
The death chamber, glancing and shining.
Where death and dead life lay reclining.
My hands with her handi intertwining.
My cheeks to her cheek.
I conjure thee by days spent together.
So sad and so few.
By the seasons of fair and foul weather,
By the rose and the rue;
By the sorrows and joys of past hours.
By the thorns of the earth and the flowers
By the suns of the skies and the showers
By the mist and the dew;
POEMS NOT IN COLLECTED EDITION 888
By the time that annihilfttea all thmgnh^
Our woes and our orimee.
By the gathering of great things and small things
At end of all times.
Let thy soul answer mine through the portal
Of the grave, if the soul be immortal,
As the wise men of all climes have taught all
The fools of all climes.
If these men speak truth I come quickly.
My life does thee wrong;
Dost thou languish in shades peopled thickly
With phantoms that throng ?
Have they known thee, my love t Hast thou known one
To welcome the stranger, and lone one !^-
Oh, loved one I oh, lost one I mine own one I
I tarry not long.
The flowers that no more shall enwreath us
Turn sunward, the dove
Sails skyward, the flowers are beneath us,
The birds are above.
Those skies (an illegible letter)
Seem fairer and farther, scarce better
Than earth to men crushed by life's fetter
When lifeless is love.
And none can live twice, say the heathen.
And none can twice die.
More hopeful than these were are we then
With hopes past the sky I
Yon Judge, will He swerve from just sentence,
For tardy, fear-stricken repentance ?
Ask those who came hither and went hence,
But hope no reply.
And He who shall judge us is mighty.
How then shall I trust
In Him, having sinned in His sight ? He
Is jealous and just.
So priests taught me once, in their learning
Perplexed, slower still in discerning,
Are ashes to ashes returning.
And dust seeking dust.
But the dead, these are tranquil, or seem so
Nor laugh they nor weep.
And I who rest not, though I dream so,
Ask only their sleep.
884 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
I hmv9 Bown tares and brambles on fickle.
False sands, and already my sickle
Has reap'd the rank weed and the prickli
What more shall I reap ?
Oan life thrive when life's love expires ?
Are life and love twain 7
Men say so— nay, all men are liars.
Or all lives are vain.
Let our dead loves and lives be forgotten.
With the ripening of fruits that are rotten,
So we, loving fools, dust-begotten.
Go dustward again.'*
TO MY SOUL
GORDON'S LAST POEM
[The subjoined poem by Adam Lindsay Gordon has a
special interest for two reasons. Li the first place, it
has, so far as we are able to discover, never been published,
and in the second it is one of the last the dead poet penned.
It wasy in fact, written only a fortnight prior to his melan-
choly death* We are enabled to publish it through the
kindness of Mr. W. D. Armstrong, M.L.A., who received
it from the daughter of Mrs. M'Gillivray, one of Gordon's
best and oldest friends. — ^Ed. Q^ee1ulander.]
«(
Tired and worn, and wearisome for love
Of some immortal hope beyond the grave.
Thy soul thou fretteet like the prisoned dove
That now is sick to rest, and now doth crave
To cleaye the upward sky with sudden wing I
The heaven is clear and boundless, and thy flight
To some new land might be a joyous thing.
Within this cage of clay there is no light;
Glimpses between its mortal bars there be
That bring a powerful longing to be free.
And tones that reach the ear mysteriously
When thou art wrapt in thy divinest dream.
Yet thou art but the plaything and the slave
Of some strange power that wears thy strength away —
Slowly and surely, which thou dar'st not brave
Because pale men in some tradition say
POEMS NOT IN COLLECTED EDITION 885
It 18 a God that would not have thee 'scape
The tortaie that He wiUs to be thy fate.
'Tia hat a tyrant's dieam, and bom of hate;
Then, soul, be not disquieted with doubt;
Step to the biink-^this hand shall let thee ont."
The following ballad by the late Adam Lindsay Gordon
will be read with interest. The lines, which were written
forty-eight years ago, and of which only thirty copies were
printed, were produced under the following circumstances :
— Gordon, who at that time lived in the south-east, one
night met a number of friends at the Mount Gambier Hotel,
and during the evening his attention was drawn to a set
of six plates illustrative of the old border ballad, *^ The
Dowie Dens o' Yarrow," engraved from pictures painted
by Mr. (now Sir) Noel Paton for the Association for the
Ftomotion of the Fine Arts in Scotland, and issued to that
association's subscribers. Gordon was much pleased with
the plates, and intimated to one of the compar ' ^^«^
intention of using them as a basis for some lines. A oay
or two later he showed the poem to the gentleman he had
spoken to, and an order was given to the proprietors of
the Border Watch for thirty copies, with the stipulation that
the authorship be kept secret. The lines were printed in
pamphlet form, and were entitled ^^ The Feud : a ballad,"
and were dedicated by " A. Lindsay " to Noel Paton,
R.S.A., as a key to the plates named. The following is
an exact copy of the poem, as it was reprinted in the
Atiatrdlasian —
A POEM BY A. L. GORDON
Flats I
Bim super mero.
" They sat by their wine in the tavern that night,
But not in good fellowship true;
The Rhenish was strong and the Burgundy bright,
And hotter the argument grew.
886 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
' I aaked your oonsent when I fixst sought her hand.
Nor did you refuBe to agree,
Tho' her lather declared that the half of his land
Her dower at our wedding should be.'
' No dower shall be given (the brother replied)
With a maiden of beauty so rare.
Nor yet shall my father my birthright divide.
Our lands with a foeman to share.'
The knight stood erec 1 in the midst of the haH,
And sterner his visage became,
'Now shame and dishonour my 'scutcheon befall
If thus I relinquish my claim.'
The brother then drained a tall goblet of wine,
And fiercely this answer he made—
' Before like a coward my rights I resign
I*II claim an appeal to the blade.
'The passes at Yarrow are rugged and wide,
There meet me to-morrow alone.
This quarrel we two with our swords will dedde.
And one shall his folly atone.'
They've settled the time and they've settled the place.
They've paid for the wine and the ale.
They've bitten their gloves and their steps they retrace
To their castles in Ettrick's Vale.'*
PLATIt II
MorUwri (U) sahitatU.
" ' Now buckle my broadsword at my side
And saddle my trusty steed;
And bid me adieu, my bonnie bride.
To Yanow I go with speed.
' I've passed through many a bloody fray
Unharmed in health or limb;
Then why is your brow so sad this day
And your dark eye so dim t '
' Oh, belt not on your broadsword bright.
Oh t leave your steed in his stall,
For I dreamt last night of a stubborn fight.
And I dreamt I saw you fall.'
' On Yarrow's braes there will be strife,
Yet I am safe from ill;
And if I thought it would cost my life
I must take this journey still.'
POEMS NOT IN COLLECTED EDITION 887
He tamed hie charger to depart
In the misty monung air,
But he stood and pressed her to his heart
And smoothed her glossy hair.
And her red lips he fondly kissed
Beside the castle door.
And he rode away in the morniag mist,
And he never saw her more ! "
Platb UI
Hew I deserta domus*
She sits by the eastern casement now
And the sunlight enters there
And settles on her ivory brow
And gleams in her golden hair.
On the deerskin rug the staghound lies
And doses dreamily.
And the quaint carved oak reflects the djres
Of the curtain^s canopy.
The lark has sprang from the new*mown hay.
And the plover's note is shrill.
And the song of the mavis far away
Comes from the distant hill;
And in the wide courtyard below
She heard the horses neigh.
The men-an-arms pass to and fro,
The scraps of border lay.
She heard each boisterous oath and jest
The rough moss-troopers made.
Who scoured the rust from spur or crest,
Or polished bit or blade.
They loved her well, those rugged men —
How could they be so gay
When he perchance in some lone glen
Lay dying far away ?
She was a fearless Border girl.
Who from her earliest days
Had seen the banners oft unfurl
And the war beacons blaze —
Had seen her father's men march out.
Roused by the trumpet's call,
And heard the f oemen's savage shout
Close to their fortress walL
388 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
And when her kin were arming fast.
Had belted many a brand —
Why was her spirit now o'ercast T
Where was her self-oommand ?
She strove to quell those childish fears.
Unworthy of her name;
She dashed away the rising tears.
And, flushed with pride and shame.
She rose and hurried down the stair.
The castle yard to roam;
And she met her elder sister there.
Gome from their father's home
' Sister IVe ridden here alone.
Your lord and you to greet.'
* Sister, to Tarrow he has gone
Our brother there to meet;
I dreamt last night of a stubborn fray
Where I saw him fall and bleed,
And he rode away at break of day
With his broadsword and his steed.
' Oh ! sister dear, there will be strife,
Our brother likes him ill,
And one or both must forfeit life
On Yarrow's lonely hill.*
A stout moss-trooper, standing near.
Spoke with a careless smile —
' Now have no fear for my master dear,
He may travel many a mile.
And those who ride on the Border side.
Albeit they like him not.
They know his mettle has oft been tried
Where blows were thick and hot.
He left command that none should go
From hence till home he came;
But, lady, the truth you soon shall know
If you will bear the blame.
Your palfrey fair Pll saddle with care,
Your sister shall ride the grey.
And ril mount myself on the sorrel mare.
And to Yarrow weMl haste away.*
The sun was low in the western sky,
And steep was the mountain track,
But they rode from the castle rapidly —
Oh I how will they travel back 7 "
POEMS NOT IN COLLECTED EDITION 88d
Platb IV
Qaudia Certaminis*
t<
He came to the spot where his foe had agreed
To meet him in Tanow's dark glade.
And there he drew rein and dismounted his steed.
And fastened him imder the shade.
Close by in the greenwood the ambush was set,
And scarce had he entered the glen
When, armed for the combat, the brother he met,
And with him were eight of his men.
* Now swear to relinquish all claim to our land.
Or to give as a hostage your bride I
Or fly if youVe able, or yield where you stand.
Or die as your betters have died I *
His doublet and hat on the green sward he threw.
He wrapt round the left arm his cloak;
And out of its scabbard his broadsword he drew,
And stood with his back to an oak.
* My claim to your land I refuse to deny.
Nor will I restore you my bride.
Nor will I surrender, nor yet will I fly;
Gome on, and the steel shall decide I *
Oh I sudden and sure were the blows that he dealt I
Like lightning the sweep of his blade I
Cut and thrust, point and edge, all around him they fell.
They fell one by one in the glade I
And pierced in the gullet their leader goes down 1
And sinks with a curse on the plain;
And his squire falls dead I cut thro' headpiece and crown I
And his groom by a back stroke is slain.
Now five are stretched lifeless I disabled are three !
Hard pressed, see the last caitiff reel I
The brother behind struggles up on one knee,
And drives through his body the steel t **
Plate V
" Nan haheo mihi facta adhuc eur Herculia uxor
Credar: conjugii mora mihi jngnua en/.*'
" The traitor's father heard the tale.
In haste he mounted then
And spurred his horse from Ettrick Vale
To Yarrow's lonely glen,
z 2
840 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Some troopen followed in hk tcaok^
For them he tamed not.
He neither halted nor looked back
Until he found the spot.
The earth was trod and trampled bac6»
And stained with dark red dew.
A broken blade lay here, and there
A bonnet out in two;
And stretched in ghastly shapes around
The lifeless corpses lie;
Some with their faces to the ground,
And some towards the sky.
And there the ancient border chief
Stood silent and alone—
Too stubborn to give way to grief.
Too stem remorse to own.
A soldier in the midst of strife,
Since he had first drawn breath,
He*d grown to undervalue life
And feel at home with death.
And yet he shuddered when he saw
The work that had been done;
He knew his fearless son-in-law,
He knew his dastard son.
Despite the failings of his race
A brave old man was he.
Who would not stoop to actions base
And hated treachery.
He loved his younger daughter well.
And though severe and rude,
For her sake he had tried to quell
That foolish border feud.
Her brother all his schemes had marred.
And given his pledge the lie.
And sense of justice straggled hard
With nature's stronger tie.
He knew his son had richly earned
The stroke that laid him low.
Yet had not quite forgiveness learned
For him that dealt the blow.
There came a tramp of horses^ feet.
He raised his startled eyes.
And felt his pulses throb and beat
With sorrow and surprise.
He saw his daughter riding fast.
And from her steed she sprung.
POEMS NOT IN COLLECTED EDITION 841
And on her lover's corpse she oast
Herself, and round him olung.
Her head she pillowed on his waist.
And all her clustering hair
Hting down, disordered by her haste.
In silken masses there.
Her sister and their sturdy guide
Dismounted and drew nigh.
The elder daughter stood aside —
Her tears fell silently.
The stout moss-trooper glanced around.
But not a word he said.
He knelt upon the battered ground
And nused his master's head.
The face had set serene and sad,
Nor was there on the clay
The stamp of that fierce soul which had
In anger passed away.
With dagger blade he rip't the shirt,
The fatal wound to show.
And wiped the stains of blood and dirt
From throat, and cheek, and brow.
And all the while she did not stir.
She lay there calm and still.
Nor could he hope to comfort her.
Her case was past his skill.
The father first that silence broke;
His voice was firm and clear.
And every accent that he spoke
Fell on the listener's ear.
'Daughter, this quarrel to forgo,
I offered half our land
As dower to him — a feudal foe —
When first he sought your hand.
I only asked for some brief while.
Some few short weeks' delay,
TUl I my son could reconcile;
For this he would not stay.
He was your husband, so I'm told,
But you yourself must own
He took you to his fortress hold
With your consent alone.
Of late the strife broke out anew;
They blame your brother there;
But he was hot and headstrong, too —
Be doubtless did his share.
342 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Oh I Stout of heart ! and strong of hand !
With all his faults was he
The champion of his Border-land;
I ne'er his judge will be I
Now, grieve no more for what is done;
Alike we share the cost;
For girl I, too, have lost a son,
If you your love have lost.
Forget the dead ! and learn to oall
A worthier man your lord
Than he whose arm has vexed us all;
Here lies his fatal sword.
Thinky when you seek his guilt to cloak.
Whose blood has dyed it red.
Who fell beneath its deadly stroke.
Whose life is forfeited.'
The old man paused, for while he spoke
The girl had raised her head.
Her silken hair she proudly dashed
Back from her crimson face !
And in her bright eyes once more flashed
The spirit of her race !
Her beauty made him stand abashed 1
Her voice rang thro' the place I
' Who held the treacherous dagger's hilt
When against odds he fought T
My brother's blood was fairly spilt !
But his was basely bought !
Now Christ absolve hia soul from guilt ;
He sinned as he was taught!
His next of kin by blood and birth
May claim his house and land J
His groom may black his saddle girth,
Or bid his charger stand !
But never a man on God's wide earth
Shall touch his darling's hand 1 '
The colour faded from her cheek.
Her eyelids dropped and fell.
And when again she sought to speak
Her accents came so low and weak
Her words they scarce could tell.
' Oh I Father, all I ask is rest,
Here let me once more lie 1 '
She stretched upon the dead man's breast
With one long weary sigh.
POEMS NOT IN COLLECTED EDITION 848
And the old man bowed his lofty orest
And hid his troubled eye !
They called her, but she spoke no more.
And when they raised her head
She seemed as lovely as before.
Though all her bloom had fled;
But they grew pale at what they saw —
They knew that she was dead ! *'
Plate VI
Dies ircRl dies ilia
'* The requiem breaks the midnight air, the funeral bell they toll,
A mass or prayer, we well may spare, for a brave moss-trooper's soul ;
And the fairest bride, on the border side, may she too be forgiven !
The dirge we ring, the chant we sing, the rest we leave to Heaven ! **
GORDON'S EARLY POEMS
The four fragments annexed, taken from Gordon's letters
to Charley Walker, must be among the earliest of his poems.
'* Whereas 1 L. Gordon, having gone away
Sundry and diverse debts have failed to pay,
By virtue of the law we here deoree
That all his goods shall confiscated be.
And since, by reason of his tender age.
His creditors, their grievance to assuage
(Albeit they have cause for just complaint).
Upon his person can put no restraint.
Nor cause him to be pulled up at the sessions
We hereby give them claim to his possessions.''
Reply to the above paragraph —
** Whereas L. Gordon, be it understood —
Hath got no goods that be of any good,
His creditors from Draper down to Glee
To aU the goods aforesaid welcome be J
And when they've nailed what comes within their range
The surplus they may keep and grab the change
And much he hopes, when they thereof partake.
Beasts of themselves therewith they will not make.*'
4<
Charley I Here I am at last
Quajrtered in my old position.
Though from having lived so fast
I'm in rather poor condition.
844 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Came by train to Bava my feet.
On a walk I wasn't nuts,
Clot home, drowsy, crabbed and beat.
Pockets empty, ditto gtUa^*
i<
Pat no faith in aught yon meet with, friends or hvets, new or old.
Never trost the gamest raoehorse that was ever reared or foaled.
If yon find yonr lady fickle, take it cool cmd never heed.
If you get a bill delivered, roU U up and light your weed.
If a foe insults your honour, hit oui and straight and ufop A«m wdl\
If your thickest Mend turns rusty, tell him he may go to heiL
Fame is folly, honour madness, love delusion, friendship sham.
Pleasure paves the way for sadness, none of these ace worth a
d ^n.
But a stout heart proof 'gainst fate is, where there can be nothing more
done.
This advice is given gratis, by Yrs truly, Lindsay Gordon.
What if friends desert in trouble. Fortune can recall them yet
Faithful in champagne and sunshine, fcUse in clouds and heavy wet.
Who would trust in mankind's daughter, since by Eve our fall was
planned.
Woman's love is writ on water, woman's faith is traced on sand.
Fame is folly, etc.'^
The following four lines written in Cheltenham many
years before and sent to the late Patchett Martin are
included in '' Thickheaded Thoughts '?—
'* I've something of the bulldog in my breed.
The spaniel is developed rather less,
While life is in me I can fight and bleed.
But never the chastizing hand caress."
Our correspondent, says the lUustrdied Sporting and
Dramatic News, recalls a rhyme which was curiously
enough written by Gordon (1852) about himself and his
companions in the hunting-field, in which arena, however,
he got very Uttle experience.
** There^s lots of refusing and falls and mishaps
Who's down on the Chestnut 7 He's hurt himself p'raps.
* Oh I it's Lindsay the Lanky,* says Hard-riding Bob,
He's luckily saved Mr. Calcraft a job.' "
POEMS NOT IN COLLECTED EDITION 845
Lindsay Gordon took the effect out of adverse criti-
cisms on the part of the rest of his comrades by severely
criticizing himself.
One of Gordon's earliest surviving rhymes is a free
translation of these words —
««
Ingenuas didioisse fideliter artes
Emollit moree, neo Binit ease feros " —
which Lindsay rendered into this —
" To rightly learn the pugiliatic art,
Suoh as Jem Eaiywig can well impart,
Refines the manners and takes off the rough,
Nor suffers one to be a blooming muff."
The following poem was given to Mr. Sladen for inclusion
in his anthology ** Australian Poets " —
GORDON'S VALEDICTORY POEM
((
Lay me low, my work is done,
I am weary. Lay me IoW|^
Where the wild flowers woo the sun.
Where the bahny breezes blow.
Where the butterfly takes wing.
Where the aspens, drooping, grow.
Where the young birds chirp and sing-
I am weary, let me go.
I have striven hard and long
In the world's unequal fight,
Always to resist the wrong,
Always to maintain the right.
Always with a stubborn heart,
Taking, giving blow for blow;
Brother, I have played my part.
And am weary, let me go.
Stem the world and bitter cold,
Irksome, painful to endure;
Everywhere a love of gold.
Nowhere pity for the poor.
Everywhere mistrust, di^^uise,
. Pride, hypocrisy, and show.
Draw the curtain, close mine eyes,
I am weary, let me go.
846 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Other ohaaoe when I am gone.
May restore the battle-oall.
Bravely lead the good oauae on
Fighting in the which I fall.
God may quicken aome true sou]
Here to take my place below
In the heroes* muster roll —
I am weary, let me go.
Shield and buckler, hang them up.
Drape the standards on the wall,
I have drained the mortal cup
To the finish, dregs and all;
When our work is done 'tis best.
Brother, best that we should go —
I am weary, let me rest,
I am weary, lay me low.'*
The following is an unfinished poem of Gordon's pub-
lished in the AtMtralasian. A shepherd discovered it in an
old pair of Gordon's trousers given him by Mr. Lambton
Mount after Gordon had left West Australia —
«4
All night I've heard the marsh-frog's croak.
The jay's rude matins now prevail.
The smouldering fire of bastard oak
Now blazes freshened by the gale ;
And now to eastward far away
Beyond the range a tawny ray
Of orange reddens on the grey,
And stars are waning pale.
We mustered once when skies were red.
Nine leagues from here across the plain.
And when the sun broiled overhead.
Rode with wet heel and wanton rein.
The wild scrub cattle held their own,
I lost my mates, my horse fell blown.
Night came, I slept here all alone.
At sunrise riding on again,
I heard yon creek's refrain.
Can this be where the hovel stood ?
Of old I knew the spot right well;
One post is left of all the wood.
Three stones lie where the chhnney fell.
POEMS NOT IN COLLECTED EDITION 847
Bank growth of ferns has well-nigh shut
From sight the ruins of the hnt.
There stands the tree where onoe I out
The M that interlaced the L —
What more is left to tell 7
Aye, yonder in the blackwood shade.
The wife was busy with her chum;
The sturdy sunburnt children play'd
In yonder patch of tangled fern.
The man was loitering to feed
His flock on yonder grassy mead;
And where the wavelet threads the weed
I saw the eldest daughter turn.
The stranger's quest to leam.
Shone, gold*besprinkled by the sun.
Her wanton wealth of back-blown hair,
Soft silver ripples danced and spun
All round her ankles bright and bare.
My speech she barely understood.
And her reply was brief and rude;
Yet God they say, made all things good
That he at first made fair.
« « « « «
(Nora. — ^The manuscript here is rather blurred and indistinct, and
probably the author's words are not accurately copied, as the sense is
rather vague.)
She bore a pitcher in her hand
Along that shallow, slender streak
Of shingle-coated shelving sand
That splits two channels of the creek;
She plunged it where the current whirls,
Then poised it on her sunny curls;
Waste water decked with sudden pearls
Her glancing arm and glowing cheek.
What more is left to speak ?
It matters not how I became
The guest of those who lived here then;
I now can scarce recall the name
Of this old station; long years, ten
Or twelve it may be, have flown past.
And many things have changed since last
I left the spot, for years fly fast.
And heedless boys grow haggard men
Ere they the change can ken.
848 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
The BpellB of those old summer days
With glory still the passes deok»
The sweet green hills still bloom and blaze
With oiimson gold and purple fleck*
For these I neither crave nor care»
And yet the flowers perchance are fair
As when t twined them in her hair.
Or strung them ohainwise round her neck
What now is left to reck ?
The pure, clear streamlet undefiled
Dnrgles the flowery upland yet;
It lisps and prattles like a child.
And laughs, and makes believe to fret.
Overflowing rushes rank and high;
And on its dimpled breast may lie
The lizard and the dragon-fly.
(NoTB. — ^The manuscript, which is carelessly written and unrevised,
abruptly leaves off here.)
By kind permission of the Editor of the Illustrated
Sporting and Dramatic News I am able to give the under-
written little monologue in rhyme> handed to a prede-
cessor as one of Gordon's unpublished compositions. It is
evidently incomplete, but, such as it is, we present it to
our readers —
A VOICE FROM THE BUSH
The Patrol (Gordon) and the Gold Digger.
(^fi epUode in (ke life of ike Poet wkiU in ^ Mounted PdUee force in
Au&hrdlia,)
Gordon, mounted, loq. —
Ho I you chap of grit and sinew,
Smoking in your pit.
Why thus labour discontinue 7
Why your forehead knit 7
Are you weary of the searching
For the Root of 111,
That you like an idle urchin.
Play at sitting still 7
I confess it hardish lines is
Not to earn a mopus.
Galling — ne^ex to get a Finis
Coronare Opus,
POEMS NOT IN COLLECTED EDITION 849
Catoh tbjB flaok of old Jamaica
In your iion paw»
While I fill a pipe and take a
Seat to have a jaw.
Let me hitch my horse's bridle
To this stunted tree:
Now, instead of one chap idle»
We can reckon three.
« « « « «
They have a jaw. PruenUy ihe PtUml fieei to depart^ and, loq. —
Well 1 there's much truth underlying
That old growl Tve heard.
I shanH please you by replying,
Yet 1*11 have a word.
Growl away ! But live and labour
Till your race be run.
Helping every feeble neighbour.
Seeking help from none.
life is mMnly froth and bubble,
Two things stand like stone;
KiNDNBBS IN A KBIGHBOUB'B TBOUBLE,
COXTBAGB IS TOUB OWN.
Though we chafe at Duty's rigour.
All is for the beet.
You will work with greater vigour.
Having had a rest.
Fortune's lap has prizes in it
Yet for you in store.
Who knows ? In another minute.
You may strike the ore.
Now I'm off with my old kicker.
On my daily task.
Stay 1 Since you have paunched the liquor.
Hand me back that flask.
This is taken from an article by ''Small Hopes." It
seems to be either the original draft or a parody of
" Fmis Exoptatus."
CHAPTER XXI
BUSH SONGS ATTRIBUTED TO GORDON
There are three songs very much sung in the bush
which are generally, but I think without reason, attributed
to Gk>rdon. They are " The Stockman's Last Bed," " The
Bushman's Lullaby " and '^ Careless Jim." Copies of
them were procured for me by the kindness of the Hon.
Mrs. W. £. Cavendish, daughter of Sir Thomas Bayley,
Bart., a squatter then living in Melbourne, for publication
in my anthology A Century of Australian Sang. I have
been told that "" The Stockman's Last Bed " was written
by the beautiful Miss Hunter who afterwards became Mrs.
Charles Rome, but I think there is better ground for
supposing that it was written by her sister-in-law, Mrs.
James Hunter. Mr. C. D. Mackellar, who stayed at
Kalangadoo station, when it belonged to the Hunt^s,
believes that Gordon wrote it himself, and gave it to one of
the Hunters.
THE STOCKMAN'S LAST BED
((
Whether stockman or not.
For a moment give ear —
Poor Jack, he is dead.
And no more shall we hear
The orack of his whip.
Or his steed's lively trot.
His clear '' Go ahead,*'
Or his jingling quart pot.
For he sleeps where the wattles
Their sweet fragrance shed,
And tall gam-trees shadow
The Stockman's last bed I
One day, while out yarding.
He was gored by a steer.
360
BUSH SONGS ATTRIBUTED TO GOEDON 8»1
' Alas ! * oiied poor Jaok,
*'Ti8 all up with me here;
And never shall I
The saddle regain.
Or bound like a wallaby
Oyer the plain."
So they've laid him where wattles
Their sweet fragrance shed, eto.
His whip at his side.
His dogs they all moum*
Hia horse stands awaiting
His master's return;
While he lies neglected, —
Unheeded he dies;
Save Australia's dark children.
None knows where he lies;
For he sleeps, etc.
Then, Stockman, if ever.
On some future day.
While following a mob.
You should happen to stray —
Oh ! pause by the spot
Where poor Jack's bones are laid.
Far, far from the home
Where in childhood he strayed.
And tread softly where wattles
Their sweet fragrance shed.
And tall gum-trees shadow
The Stockman's last bed.*'
THE BUSHMAN'S LULLABY^
lift me down to the creek-bank. Jack
It must be cooler outside :
The long hot day is well-nigh done.
It's a chance if I see another one.
I should like to look on the setting sun,
And the waters cool and wide.
We didn't think it would be like this
Last week as we rode together;
True mates we've been in this far land
For many a day since Devon's strand
We left for these wastes of sun-soorched land
In the blessed English weather.
^ Attributed also to Henry Kingsley.
852 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
We left when the leafy lanee were green.
And the trees met oyerheadi
The merry brooks ran clear and gay;
The air was sweet with the soent of hay;
How well I remember the very day»
And the words my mother said !
We have striven and toiled and fought it oat
Under the hard, blue sky.
Where the plains glowed red in tremnlons lights
Where the haunting mirage mocked the sight
Of desperate men from mom till night.
And the streams had long been dry.
Where we dug for gold on the mountain side.
Where the ioe-fed river ran.
Through frost and blast, through fire and snow.
Where an Englishman could live and go.
We've followed our luck for weal or woe.
And never asked help from man.
And now it's over, it^s hard to die.
Ere the summer of life is o'er.
Ere time has printed one single mark,
When the pulse beats high, and the limbs are stark.
And, oh God, to see home no more I
No more ! No more ! Ah I vain the vow.
That, whether rich or poor.
Whatever the years might bring or change,
I would one day stand by the grey old grange.
While the children gathered, all shy and strange,
As I entered the well-known door.
You will go home to the old place. Jack;
Tell my mother from me
That I thought of the words she used to say.
Her looks, her tone, as I dying lay;
That I prayed to God as I used to pray
When I knelt beside her knee.
By the lonely water they made their couch.
And the southern night fast fled;
They heard the wild fowl splash and cry.
They heard the mourning reeds low sigh.
Such was the Bushman's lullaby;
With the dawn his soul was sped."
BUSH SONGS ATTRIBUTED TO GORDON 368
CARELESS Jm
** His other name 7 Well» there Vm stumped ;
He was tall, sir, dark and slim,
And we— that is, my mates and I —
Just called him ' Careless Jim,*
That was all we know — ^to his other name
No thought we ever gave.
Until one day, at the foot of the mount.
When we laid him in his grave.
There were four of us all young and wild.
You know what the times were then —
But you see that gap in the mountain, miss —
That gap in the Femtree Glen —
'Twas there we lived in a hut so rude.
But you know what the huts were then I
That house there's mine, but Tve often wished
For those times in the Fern-tree den.
We had no oare — a quarrel at times
Might the light of our lives bedim.
But a jump between and ' Don't be fools,'
Would come from Careless Jim.
So our lives sped on unruffled, unchanged.
Till a day all dreary, when
A shadow fell on the rude old hut
That we built in the Fern-tree Glen.
It was night, and beside a rough bush bed
We stood with our eyes all dim.
Watching the flickering lamp of life
In the face of Careless Jim.
How bright at times it seemed to bum.
And then how faint its glow !
But 'twas sinking fast, and we heard a voice
Cry, "Good-bye, boys — ^I go."
We dug a grave where the brook babbles on.
Beneath the Fern-tree's shade.
And between two sheets of the white-gum bark
The form of Jim we laid;
Then with spade in hand all mute we stood,
Chained as it were by a spell.
Waiting each for the other to heap the clay
On the day we loved so well.
Twas done at length — ^yet I scarce know how,
For not a word was said;
A A
854 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
And a creeper we set at the foot of that grave.
And a box-tree at his head.
And we oanred his name on a blue-gum near.
Leastways all we knew,
In a rough irregular sort of way —
'Jim, 1852.'
Ten years ago I saw that grave;
The brook babbled on as before;
But the box-tree had pushed the fern aside.
And the creeper was there no more;
But I alone, sir, know that spot
(For my mates are sleeping too).
And I carved once more on the blue-gum tree,
' Jim, 1852.* »
PART II
CHAPTER I
THE ROMANCE OF ADAM LINDSAY GORDON*
But for a single attachment one might have said that
Adam Lindsay Gordon's romance was a romance of action.
As to that attachment there can be no doubt. It fills
his letters from the time that he went to live at Worcester
until he had been in Australia for years. The object of
his affections was the elder daughter of Mr. Bridges of St.
John's and Broughton Hackett, just outside Worcester, a
beautiful girl who was sweet seventeen when the attachment
began. She is still living, and the details are given with
her permission. As has been mentioned in the introduction
to Gordon's life, she has been twice married, and has by
her first marriage a son very eminent at the Bar. She is
now Mrs. Lees.
Gordon never declared his love till he came to say good-
bye for his departure for Australia, when with characteristic
recklessness he offered to sacrifice the passage he had taken
to Australia, and all his father's plans for giving him a
fresh start in life, if she would tell him not to go, or promise
to be his wife, or even give him some hope.
To her honour, she refused to do either, though she
retains her affection for him undiminished to this day,
sixty years afterwards.
Gordon was a handsome, dashing boy, the hero of
numberless exploits with his fists and his horses, when he
first made her acquaintance. He was a merry boy in
those days, fond of what would now be called "" ragging,"
^ By Douglaa Sladen only.
AA2 355
856 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
but also given to fits of silence, and in the habit of reciting
heroic poetry.
His admiration for Jane Bridges was a silent one, a
matter of eye worship. She was unaware that he loved
her, and attributed his shyness in her presence to the
natural shyness of a boy not accustomed to women, with
a beautiful and popular girl. She was therefore very kind
to him, encouraging him to recite his favourite pieces to
her and helping to form his taste in poetry. Gk>rdon was
always more at ease with her tall young sister, who was
hardly more than a child at the time, but showed a marked
desire for the society of Jane, whom he approached in such
a distant way. The letters he wrote to Charley Walker,
published in Chapter IV of Part II, contain innunaerable
allusions besides those quoted below, to his aflfection
for Jane Bridges and his desire to marry her.
Mrs. Lees^s correspondence, which has never been aUuded
to in any previous memoirs of Gordon, throws a fresh
light on Gordon's disposition which brings out proofs of
his lovableness and demonstrates that even in those days
ragging formed only one side and that not the most con-
spicuous in his character.
Mrs. Lees's information is given in a series of letters to
Mr. Sladen.
LetUf dated November 28, 1911.
*'The only letter from Gordon I ever had was written a
few days after the poor unhappy boy left, and I hid it away
in an old pocket-book which was stolen from me, and I
have no recollection of a word he said in it, and the little I
heard of the writer came through Charley's sister Agnes who
became my very affectionate and loved friend. We had
always a great deal to talk about when we met, and by
degrees our references to Gordon and thoughts of him died
out ; but occasionally, after he was spoken of as a Pod I
have been asked questions by the few who knew that I
had been acquainted with him, and I have always related
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GORDON'S ROMANCE 857
the true story of the broken stable-door lock» and the
trouble and expense it had been to his father, and that his
father decided to prevail upon him to go to Australia, an
arrangement to which he cheerfully assented, or seemed
to do so until, when the time for parting came somebody's
loving-kindness made his resolution less ^ — ^as he states in one
of his poems, and drew forth a confession of a carefuUy
concealed and ardent affection ; the brief leavetaking from
that Somebody is I believe the only incident described in
my former communication, although there was nothing in
that last brief sad interview which, being related truthfully,
could bring a blush to the cheek of the lady named. Ah,
well, my dear sir, in my seventy-seventh year my blushing
days are over, and if it will give any gratification to you,
as a genuine enthusiastic admirer of my old friend, A. L.
Gordon, I will entrust you with the details of that interview,
which will ever remain in my memory (as long as I have
any left), although for many years I regarded Gordon's
feeling, briefly mentioned under excitement, as an expression
of a hod's love which would soon pass over to another. I
was much affected in reading the letters ^ alluded to at
finding that his esteem for me was not a passing fancy.
** I am more pleased to hear of the discovery of the last
contemporary member of Lindsay's family in the person
of a lady, and her statement that he was not cast off by his
family, as suggested and even staied by his biographers,
but the lady says simply, * We lost him,' and what more
natural than for one who had not anything pleasing to
relate to keep silent in the hope of better times."
Gordon's Fboposal to Jane Bbidges
'* Only very trifling incidents are worth recording unless
I exclude his leavetaking with myself, which was too
vividly impressed upon my mind for any word of it ever
1 In his '* Early Adieux *' slightly altered.
* Letters from Qoxdon to Charley Walker.
858 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
to be forgotten though it occupied only a few minutes, and
I was dressed for driving out with my father, who was
waiting for me in the gig at the door. I was just leaving
when Gordon came into the room I was in and said to me
abruptly, ^ I am going away and have come to say ^^ good-
bye/' • I simply said ' I am sorry you ate going.* Then,
as by a lightning flash was revealed to me the beauty of a
face which I had hitherto regarded as expressionless^ for
the lad had never looked straight into mine, and I knew
that he was sensitive regarding his nearness of sight; at
my words he flushed crimson and said, ^ One word from
you and I will not go.' At this moment I recall the look
of entreaty which accompanied his brief ocnifession and
request. I intuitively knew what I had never before
suspected, my heart seemed to leap into my throat — ^I
awkwardly added, ^ We are all sorry, Mr. Gordon, but I
cannot say a word to induce you to stay after the trouble
and expense you have given your poor father.' Then he
said, ' I will he and do all my father wishes if you will only
say one word.' Then I repeated, ' I cannot. Why have
you said nothing of this before ? ' He said, ^ Because I
was afraid you would ridicule or shun me, and I could not
have stood it,' and added,
** * I shall hope unless there is another ; is there another ? '
'' I felt obliged to say ' Yes^ there is another 1 '
*' Then the crimson flush died out of the beautiful face,
and the tears gushed into my eyes. .1 offered my hand;
for the first time in our lives he drew it slowly nearer his
eyes, silently and reverentially kissed it. Once more he
said, ^ I wiU hope.'
" Well, my friend, I rushed off, for my dear father was
reminding me of his impatience (and Kit's) by thumping
the floor of his gig, and his surprise was great when I
appeared sohbir^g and explaining, ^ Oh, father, Gordon is
going away and has been saying he loves me,' so we drove
off, and I kept crying. Suddenly Kit was pulled up, and
father said, * Are you quite sure you know your mind,
GORDON'S ROMANCE 859
and don't wish Gordon to stay ; if not we can return ; if
you are sure, then don't cry.' I told no one, but Gk>rdon
told his chum Charley (not ihe old Charley) all about it.
I could not forget the haunting scene for a long time ; but
I could not accuse myself of wrong, and my natural gift
of cheerfulness came to my help, and my love for my father,
and his need of me in his long and terrible illness, weaned
me from thoughts of every one and everything else."
Letter dated December 1, 1911.
" The poem * to my sister ' does refer to me, in that poem
he alludes to the whiteness of my neck. I can truly state
that he never mentioned the subject to me, nor did he
ever pay me a compliment, and he appeared disgusted
when Charley (who always came with him) was ready with
one on all occasions, and they were usually accepted as a
matter of course by me and my sister; one incident I
record as a specimen of his anxiety to keep me from
suspecting that he admired my personal appearance. It
is just this. We met at a ball given by the widow of
Captain Holyoake at Crowle (the next village to ours, which
is Broughton Hackett), and Gordon neither danced nor
played cards, nor conversed with any one, and certainly
beyond a slight bow of recognition at meeting did not
appear conscious of my presence; when he called next I
thought to just see what he could be made say, when I
asked bluntly who was the belle at Holyoak^e hall ; he replied
just as bluntly ^ Sally was certainly the ^fneet girl there.'
Now my sister was six inches taller than myself and quite
a contrast in feature and manner, and he always appeared
pleased to be with her, and even to joke with or tease her ;
on the contrary I always knew if he inquired for * Miss
Jane ' to expect to hear of a grievance, or that he had
brought me a book to read, and very frequently he had met
with a poem with he should like to recite to me, and I
liked to hear him, although his tone was monotonous and
he seemed to be looking far off. I encouraged him to
860 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
study the poems and recite, and perhaps without suspecting
it I commended passages of his own composing; but I do
not think we any of us had regarded him as a xoriter of
verses even.^^
Letter dated December, 1911.
" I could not truthfully record any word or act of his
(Charley Walker's) which could class him with those in-
dividuals whom poor Grordon was obliged to make useful in
giving himself his only opportimities for testing and e^diibit-
ing his powers of endurance, courage and skill, qualities
inherited through his father from a long line of ancestry.
These exhibitions over, I allude to boxing (now a fashion-
able pastime), horse-racing, etc., and glowing descriptions
of them patiently listened to and confidenHaUy detailed to
his friend, with promises given that ^ Miss Jane ' or
* Jenny ' should not be told anything about it, and that,
all the excitement over, and the reciter just again the
dreamy, sad, complaining Gordon come, perhaps with a
book to lend, or complaint of his mother's temper, or a
suspicion that has been ^ twitting ' to his Uncle about
having seen him in the company of some one, and his
sister's sneers, etc., during these confidences, Charley
most frequently took his pipe outside, where he would very
likely get from Old Martin, the farm bailiff, a drau|^t of
our excellent home-made perry or cider; the pair rarely
sat down, and Gordon, when reciting poetry, stood or
walked up and down ; this is a fair specimen of our inter-
course, and there appeared nothing to indicate a poet and
his love.
^^I intend writing you a full description of Chariey,
after Christmas perhaps, if not sooner, but can only for
the present confine myself to the statement that aftar
an acquaintance of I think eleven years he married my
sister, the SaUy so frequently alluded to in Gordon's letters ;
those letters which will perhaps see the light again ; I took
extracts from them, chiefly references to mysdf as deariy
GORDON'S ROMANCE 861
establishing my assertions that / never played ihe coqueUk^
as some imagined, and jilted Gordon and drove him away.
Gordon's ordinary common-place surroundings, and inci-
dents furnished no(Mng to awake inspiration in his poetic
mind, and in England he would never have been anything
better ob worse than ^ (hat poor young feUow * Grordon.
" For the present and future,
*' Yours, etc "
LeUer dated January 9, 1912.
"The two boys had paid a brief visit to Broughton Hackett
and finding neither Sally nor little Fanny with me took
leave and, I thought were clear ofi when, just outside the
gate I saw and heard them in serious conversation, and
Charley said * I make no (I thought the word was) headway.
1 give it up and leave the running to you.' Gordon looked
seriously at him, and after a little silence he said * Honour
bright, Charley ? * * Yes,' replied Charley, and then
shook both hands and departed; no name having been
mentioned, no circumstance alluded to, I had no clue and
should probably have thought no more about it, but I
learnt long after that when first the boys became acquainted
with me each of them had confided the state of his feeling
toward me to his friend and agreed to be open and truthful
to each other, and try their luck; I can state that they
faithfuUy kept their pledge and, with the exception of
some trifling compliment, paid to me openly by Charley
in Gordon's presence, I had no word from either one of
themexpressiveof anything warmer than sincere friendship.
You know how the matter ended.
** I knew the Walkers, they were a very happy family ;
young Charley had a very liberal education, had a cheerful
and amiable disposition, and ought to have been articled
to some profession, but he had to learn that the necessary
means were not forthcoming and, like Gordon and the
Army, he had to think what he could do ; but unlike Crordon
he kept a happy cheerful spirit, enjoyed the society of his
862 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
mother and sisters, enjoyed reading, had a very healthy
appetite, digestion, a keen sense of humour and never
seemed to think upon his future, and he used to speak of
his father as *The Grovemor,' seemed rather proud of
him, but was never seen out with him, and never seemed
desirous to make acqtuiiniance with any of his set, never
crossed a horse, nor had a desire for one, and if he could
have a pipe and book would seem one to be happy under
any circumstances ; he patiently wooed SaUy for many (I
think ten) years ; then they married and went away after
a time and so I saw or heard little of them/*
Letter dated January 18, 1912.
*^ I little thought when scribbling my relation of trifling
incidents that I had done more than amuse you and left
it to you to pick out and arrange in your artistic style
anything worth preserving, and throw a sidelight upon
the character of our hero and show you how and why he
attached himself to Charley. Here were two lads in nearly
similar circumstances, educated as gentlemen, with manly
and gentlemanly instincts, rtranded by fate in the begin-
ning of their lives ! financiaUy cut off from congenial
society, for of course Gordon in the hunting-field would
be conscious that he, not subscribing liberaUy to the Hurdy
and only being mounted upon a borrowed or hired hack,
was only regarded as * that young fellow Gordon,' and
he would shrink from and resent any acceptance of
patronage from any of the more favoured few in the field,
Then he could not be a member of either of the select City
or County Clubs or Societies ; he found a chum in the son
of old Charley, sober, cheerful, very amusing, with time on
his hands; the pair loved long walks, little short pipes,
nice books — and you know that in some other respects
their tastes and opinions agreed."
Letter dated January 28, 1912.
'' Trifling incidents crop up which, though scarcely worth
GORDON'S ROMANCE 868
relating throw sidelights showing the difference in the
dispositions of our hero and his devoted friend; here is
one I well recollect. The boys came together as usual.
Charley went into the arbour in front of the window in
which Gordon looked out of the parlour and seemed
particularly miserable over his mother's crossness, and I
tried to persuade him not to think of it; that he was
going to be a fine fellow when he settled down and I should
live to see them all proud of him ; but it was useless to talk
to him, and for a wonder I offered to play the piano for
him ; he moved to the instrument and placed the seat for
me and I played my father's favourite ^ Weber's Last
Waltz' (I have kept the old tattered music untU now)
over and over again. Lindsay appeared to be gazing
steadily at the instrumefU, and on a sudden, I felt sure he
was not taking interest in my performance, and I jumped
up, saying, ' I perceive my effort to amuse you is quite
useless, you have not half as much ear for music as old
Duke (a favourite cart-horse), just come and see how he
will appreciate my singing.' ' Gordon said as I closed the
piano, ^ Thank-you ' ; he followed me to the bam where
Duke was, and when nearing it I began to sing ^The
Minstrel Boy to the War has gone ' and a responsive
merry neigh could be plainly heard from within, and when
we altered, Duke came up and put his nose to my cheek.
Then I was startled by a deep groan from the doorway,
where stood Charley, who in his jocular way said, ^ Oh,
donH I xoish I was Duke ! ' I said, ' Of course we could have
guessed what you would say.' Gordon's look of disgust I
never forget. He uttered not a word, solemnly took his
hat and departed ; Charlie gave a comical how and followed
like a faithful dog, without returning to the house for his
favourite cup of cider after a five-mile walk."
The letters Gordon wrote to Charles Walker, published
in Part II, Chap. IV, contain constant allusions to his
affection for ** Miss Jane " and his desire to marry her.
Here are a few specimens of them.
864 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
** Now, if you have seen Jane tdl me how her throat is
and everything, you know, besides. . . ."
'' I hope Sally won't be crabbed at my valentine. Fm
sorry I sent it, but I couldn't help our quarrel. You told
me, she wouldn't stand my writing to Jane, but, if I'd
believed you, I should have done the same, for, as you've
already found out, Jane'ems was my favourite all along.
I wish I knew more about her, but she puzzles me, though
I used to fancy myself a pretty sharp hand, but this I
know, she is or was very near engaged if not quite. I never
came any nonsense to her because I saw she would not
stand it, besides it would have been too near earnest for
me. It would serve me right if I'm downright nutty at last,
for I've fooled with girls so often, and never cared a rap
for them, not that I ever deceived them, as they call it,
or at least not intentionally. Well, I shan't make a fool
of myself, so don't fear, not even for Jenny if I see her
again, which I'm not sure of ; but you'll see I'm not going
to gammon you, so I shall stop and say enough on that
score."
^' It was rather too hard on me, I thought, of Miss Jenny
to tell me of it, the hardest thing for a man to swallow is
a half truth and an unpleasant one, but she always teBs me
what she thinks on such matters^ and strange to say I ahoays
stand it; if I were to see her often enough I think she'd
almost reform me, not that she'd take the trouble to do
that either."
** And my dear Jane too! I have not forgotten her, for I
never reaUy cared for any other girl. (I hope she is not
altered either in appearance or anything.) By Heaven,
Charley, when you and I knew her she was one in a
thousand.^^
'' I don't know that she was so very handsome, Charley,
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GORDON'S ROMANCE 865
but she had one look I thought beautiful. I remarked
it more at some times thau at others. So you are nutty
on SaUy, oh 1 And a very good girl she will be, and is
getting sensible, I have no doubt. Has she ever forgiven
me ? Tell me this in your next. She spoke like a trump
for me to Skinner when he was saying the reverse. . . .
I should like to see Jenny tho', and know how she is getting
on. I daresay she has forgotten me, or thereabouts.''
"A note from your father was enclosed and also one from
my dear little Jane. You remember how fond I was of her,
Charley, so no more on that head. ... I wonder if I shall
find Jane married by the bye, I half expect to. To you I
am neither afraid nor ashamed to own that I would marry
her to-morrow if I had the chance and she would have me."
** Respects to Sarah and Love to Jane^ to you the assurance
of eternal brothership will suffice."
'* And dear Jane, Charley, I am almost afraid to speak of
her, is she married yet ? I can scarcely mention her to
you without a sudden moisture of the eyelids, which,
however, dries up almost as soon as it rises owing to the
dryness of the soil. Strange it may seem to you that
after a long absence a careless, selfish chap like me should
still thuik of her with feelings undiminished by time,
absence or new faces. If you can, Charley, see her and
speak to her of me, it would seem to me the nearest ap-
proach to seeing her in person for my old friend to mention
me to her, and tell her what news of me he thinks would
please her to hear, tho' I expect she cares little now to
hear my name mentioned. ... It seems but yesterday
that I was fighting C. Skinner about Jane'ems and that I
was with you at the old station."
This was the one and only great romance of Gordon's
life.
ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
THE GORDONS OF HALLHEAD
CHAPTER III
THE GORDONS OF HALLHEAD
By John Ifialoolm Bulloch, Editor of '' The Houae of Gordon ^
for the New Spalding dub.
Adam Lindsay Gordon displayed in an extraordinary
degree — ^indeed, the qualities whidi endear him to Austra-
lasians exactly connote — ^the spirit of the Gay Gordons.
As a matter of fact it would have been remarkable had
he done anjrthing else; for not only did his father and
mother, who were first cousins, bear the same surname,
but he was the product of the three great lines of north
coimtry Gordons, founded by Elizabeth, the heiress who
married a Seton, and by her cousins " Jock ** and " Tam,"
represented to-day respectively by the Duke of Richmond
and Gordon, the Earl of Aberdeen and by the poet's own
immediate family, the Gordons of Hallhead, Aberdeenshire.
Overworked as the doctrine of heredity has become in
the interests of modem biography, it is essential to an
understanding of Adam Lindsay Gk>rdon, for the spirit
of the house, which oral tradition long ago crystallized into
the alliterative phrase the '' Gay Gordons,'' is amply con-
fumed by the minute researches of the modem scientific
genealogist. That spirit is not only very distinctive, but
it is as enduring as the Hapsburg lip which inevit€tbly
masters contributory strains of blood. To take a striking
example, the Right Hon. Sir George Hamilton Gordon,
6th Earl of Aberdeen (1841-70), masquerading in complete
incognito as " George H. Osborne," was swept overboard
when serving as first mate of the schooner Hern^ from Boston
to Melbourne, six months before Adam Lindsay Gordon
died by his own hand at the latter port. Li the previous
368
THE GORDONS OF HALLHEAD 869
deeade Charles George Gordon, with whom the poet was
at Woolwich, had made the world ring with his dashing
exploits in China, just as he was to make it resound with
his fearlessness at Khartum, where he displayed all the
reckless unworldliness characteristic of the name he bore ;
while the famous regiment who compose for ill-informed
people the Gay Gordons, have maintained with undimin-
ished force the spirit of the house which called it into
existence.
To provide a fully reasoned definition of Gay Gordonism
would involve a history of the entire " clan " far beyond
the purpose of the present work. It may, however, be
described in general terms as a spirit of dash, of idealism,
of a recklessness which is the very reverse of canny; it
has far more aflBmities with the character of the French and
the Irish than with the Scot i»roper. It can be called
*^ Celtic " (a much abused clichS) only by infection or by
environment, for the Ck>rdons were not originally High-
land, although in the course of their career they married
into Highland families, and assumed the r61e of Highland
chieftains.
Their beginning is qaite unknown, for the modern
genealogist has swept aside as mythical the Continental
origins once assigned to the family. Keeping to history,
we first find them in Berwickshire in the twelfth century,
and can trace them fairly clearly during the next two
hundred years fighting indiscriminately for Scotland and
for England. In the beginning of the fomteenth century,
however, they made up their minds to throw in their lot
with the growing entity which we call Scotland, and, as a
reward, one of them got a grant of the lands of Strathbogie,
in Aberdeenshire, from which the Earls of AthoU had been
ousted by the victorious Bruce. That was the first great
division of the tribe, for, though the ^^ superiority '* of the
parish of Gordon is stiU in the hands of the northern line
owning the Duke of Richmond and Gordon as its head,
the group which emigrated, to Strathbogie was quite distinct
BB
870 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
from that remaining in the borders, displaying far more
spirit and ability, however its claims to s^ority may be
questioned.
The northern group, in turn, became divided at the end
of the fourteenth century by Sir John Gordon's not having
married the mother of his two sons, the famous ^* Jock **
and " Tam." They were probably the offspring of a ** hand-
fasting miion,*' which, while not committing them to
illegitimacy in the code of the Highlands, was unrecognized
by the Church. So when Sir John died (between 1891
and 1895), his lands went to his brother. Sir Adam, who in
turn was succeeded by a son and by a daughter Elizabeth.
This fortunate lady found herself in possession of broad
acres first by the death of her father at the battle of Homil-
don Hill and then by the death of his brother John in 1408 :
while her cousins " Jock " and ^^ Tam *' had to contoit
themselves with small holdings at Scurdargue in the parish
of Rhynie, and at Ruthven in the parish of Caimie, Aber-
deenshire. Elizabeth married Alexander Seton, the son
of her guardian. Sir William Seton of that ilk, so that all
her descendants were really Setons and not Grordons, though
her oldest son took her maiden name and f oimded first the
Earls, and then the Marquises, of Huntly, and finally, the
Dukes of Gordon. ^^ Jock '' Gk>rdon had a numerous
progeny with ramifications of bewildering complexity,
the most notable being the Earls of Aberdeen. His brother
^' Tam o* Riven " was also prolific, so much so, indeed,
that the compiler of the "" Balbithan MS.,*^ the most
valuable authority in the northern group, gave up tracing
them in sheer despair, finding them ^' hard to be con-
descended upon."
It would be unnecessary to take the reader even thus far
but for the fact that Adam Lindsay Gordon combined the
blood of all these three lines, his father tracing directly from
" Tam " and his grandmother from the Seton Gk>rdons on one
side and from "" Jock's *' ennobled progaiy on the other,
so that the poet had a triple supply of ** gayness " in him.
THE GORDONS OF HALLHEAD 871
To come to his own direct male Iine» the Gordons of
Hallhead, we are assured by the *^ Balbithan MS." that
the doughty " Tam " married three wives, " with whom
he begat sixteen sons." Only five of these sons are said
to have married, but their descendants are legion. They
soon overflowed from the parish of Caimie where " Tam "
was estabUshed, and in the course of time annexed a great
many estates in the neighbouring parishes. The eldest
son did not travel far afield, establishing himself in the
parishes of Forgue and Gartly. The second had to be con-
tent with less fertile land, and migrated south-westwards
across the county border into the wild parish of Mortlach,
feeling himself safe, however, at Balveny, in the shadow of
the historic Gmdon stronghold of Auchindown, which is
immortalized in the famous ballad '"Edom o' Gordon."
The third son entered the Church. The fourth ventured so
far south as the valley of the Dee, setting up his roof -tree
at Braichlie, near Balmoral, where one of his descendants
is known wherever our ballads are known as the ^' Baron
o' Braichlie." The fifth son, George Gordon, stopped two-
thirds of the way thither, setting up his house at Hallhead
in the inhospitable parish of Cushnie, beneath the very
noses of the antagonistic family of Forbes. It is with
Gorge's descendants that we are here concerned.
Cushnie, now united with the parish of Leochel, remains
to this day a rather inaccessible place. Ranging from
500 feet to 2000 feet above the sea-level, it is a bleak stretch
of country, and even Gilderoy and his hardy gang are said
to have declared that the hills of Cushnie were the coldest
in Scotland. Even its parish minister, Dr. Taylor (who
succeeded the present writer's grand-uncle, the Rev.
William Malcolm), admitted in the Statistical Account of
Scotland (1848), that both Leochel and Cushnie '' have
long had an evil report, on account of the coldness and
lateness of the climate and the consequent uncertainty of
the crops " ; while in more recent times, the learned Gaelic
scholar, James Macdonald, kinsman of George MacDonald,
BB 2
872 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
the poet-novelist (who told a legend about " Tarn " Gk)rdon
in his delightful sketch the Wow o' Riven)y while unable
to derive the name Cushnie, definitely assured his readers
that the hills of the parish are " proverbially cold.'* This,
then, was the cradle of the family of Adam Lindsay Gordon,
who spent his days under the happier auspices of Australian
skies.
It was just the sort of bleak place into which a younger
son would be dumped under the forces of primogeniture;
but, if it was a difficult spot to find sustenance in, it was
also a bracing place, with the result that alone of ^* Tarn "
Gordon's sons, the descendants of George of Hallhead still
retain their holding, the others and their (male) issue having
been blotted out — ^at least as land owners.
A minute history of the Gordons of ^' Ha'head " as it
is euphoniously known, would make tedious reading to
any but a genealogist ; the table printed here traces them
with sufficient conciseness. But one may indicate the broad
lines of the family story — ^whioh happens to be the typical
story of many another estate throughout Scotland.
From the end of the fifteenth century, when Hallhead
was acquired, down to the end of the seventeenth century,
nearly all we know about the Hallhead Gordons is a bald
record of marriages and legal formalities. Situated in an
isolated part of the county, and separated from other
Gordon families, the Hallhead family were content to
plough their lonely furrow without meddling in the religious
and political problems of the time, which brought so many
of their race to ruin, and without impinging on the rights
of their neighbours. Indeed, the Privy Council Register,
the aristocratic Newgate Calendar of the north, while
bristling with other Gordon misdemeanours, notes only
one Hallhead offence, when Adam, son of one of the
lairds, was indicted in 1601, with several other men, for
bullying the tenants of the land of Tillymorgan by stealing
their horses. ^^To colour their extraordinary proceedings
with any pretence of law, they hold courts on the said tenants
THE GORDONS OF HALLHEAD 878
and pronounce decrees." Eleven years later another of
them, Walter, was outlawed for troubling the town of
Aberdeen with an unpleasing display of swash-buckling.
But, taken on a whole, the Gordons of Railhead were a
law-abiding people — ^which makes it all the more difficult
to trace their descendants.
They enlarged their original holding of Hallhead (valued
for tax purposes in 1695 at £100), by going eastwards into
the adjoining parish of Tough (£50 valuation), and south-
wards into Tarland (£250 valuation). This total valuation,
£400, shows them to have been quite an unimportant sept —
the Earl of Aberdeen's family, into which they ultimately
married, stood at £5461 — ^and they very wisely did not
attempt to play a part inconomensurate with their
rent-roll.
But there came a moment — ^the commonplace of
thousands of estates long before the operations of modern
politics — ^when the paternal acres were insufficient to
support the family, which had to look elsewhere for sub-
sidies. The familiar move — ^the initial impulse of Lindsay
Gordon's migration to Australia — ^took the usual form.
The eldest son held on (if he could) to the estate; his
brothers either took to soldiering or to trade. As there
was no Scots army to speak of, these young Scots went
as " mercenaries '* into foreign armies, and the Gay Gordons
thus came to serve under many flags. For instance, the
Gordons of Gight, Byron's riotous ancestors — sent a son
into the army of the Empire, for the safety of which he
engineered the assassination of Wallenstein in 1684. The
Gordons of Auchleuchries gave Peter the Great a notable
helper and server in the person of General Patrick Gordon.
The Scots Brigade in Holland, the Scots Men-at-Arms in
France and the levies of Gustavus Adolphus teemed with
Gordons at one time or another. That was the destiny
of the older of the younger sons of these Scots families.
The younger of them took to trade, and as they were too
proud as a rule to start in the neighbouring town, and were
874 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
practically debarred from crossing the border, they too
went abroad and peopled the ports of the Baltic, the
towns of Poland and the business centres of France, until
they too came to be barred; and then the adventurous
Scot looked to our increasing colonies, especially in former
times, the West Indies.
It was quite in keeping with their peaceable traditions
that the early Hallhead Gordons confmed their operations
to trade, and did not enter the armies of the Continent.
When bad times came, three of the sons of Patrick Gordon,
the ninth laird, went off to seek their fortimes in business
— ^Robert, the second son to the wine binns of Bordeaux,
a fruitful land compared with the bleak hills of Coshnie;
Charles, the third son to Edinburgh; and Alexander the
fourth to Boulogne, which had become a great " howff "
for Scots traders and a happy haven for Jacobite refugees.
Entrenched in trade, they all made money, while their dder
brother John, who got the estates, became so poor that
he had had to send his heir, Patrick, to Bordeaux, while his
second son William seems to have gone to Jamaica. But
that did not save the estates, for Patrick, the tenth laird,
who died in 1725, had to sell them to his uncle Robert, the
wine merchant, to whom and his issue the story now
changes.
Characteristically enough, this change was as complete
as it was unexpected, for Robert Gordon began to display
the essence of Gay Gk>rdonism under circumstances antago-
nistic to it. While he saved the family name by the fortune
he had amassed in the wine trade, he was the first of his
line to mix himself up in politics, and that, too, of a kind
that was inimical to his family's interest; but then no
true Gordon has ever been logical. Instead of selling his
wine to the ^^ nobility and gentry," as the old-fashioned
merchant would have put it, he began intriguing with them
for the restoration of the Stuarts, harbouring refugees in
his house at Bordeaux, entertaining Jacobites like the
Duke of Liria* corresponding in cipher over the name of
THE GORDONS OF HALLHEAD 875
" Mr. libum," with the " Duke " of Mar and the other
Jacobite leaders at home, and, generally identifying himself
with all the causes bound up in ^^ The '15," as students of
the voluminous Stuart papers belonging to the king know.
Fortimately for him by the time he bought Railhead and
came home the plotters had subsided, but Robert's pre-
dilections were only latent, and blazed up in his son at the
caU of ** the '45."
Having resigned the family estate of Hallhead, Robert
Ck>rdon, buttressed financially by his wine biiiis, extended
his footing in his native shore by purchasing another
estate nearer the coast, for he bought Esslemont in Buchan
from another family of Gk>rdon, who had also made their
fortune in trade and are remembered to-day as ancestors
of lilr. A. J. Balfour. Then he took the great step towards
founding a family by entailing his estates in 1781, dying
(in Edinburgh) six years later.
It is interesting to note in connection with Adam Lindsay
Crordon's distinction as a poet, that it was in Robert's life-
time that the Hallhead family associated themselves with
literary and scientific associations not usually favoured by
the landed gentry. Robert and his younger brother
Alexander collected books, which were hardly hobbies of
the landed gentry of their period. Robert, through one
daughter, became the grandfather of Joseph Black, the
expounder of latent heat, which forms the basis of modem
thermal science, while another daughter married the pro-
fessor of natural philosophy at Edinburgh University.
One of his nephews was Adam Ferguson, the moral
philosopher.
Death prevented Robert from any further flourish of
his old leanings, but the essentially reckless character of
Gordon blood sent his son and successor, George, straight
into the arms of Prince Charlie. This laird, who was
probably bom in France, accentuated the temptation by
marrying into the family of Bowdler, for his wife, who was
the aunt of the expurgator of Shakespeare, was the daughter
876 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
of a keen Stuart. One is not, therefore, surprised that
George Gordon, now established as a county gentleman,
plunged boldly into Jacobitism. While he was mardiing
to Culloden, his house in Aberdeen was occupied and ran-
sacked by Cumberland's soldiers, as his wife has told us at
tearful length in a long letter which the curious reader will
find in that doleful book The Lyon in Mourning. George
Gordon Rimself was excepted from the general amnesty,
and completely disappears from the scene, so that we do
not know what became of him.
His disappearance was highly diplomatic, for his presence
might have ended in forfeiture. It is probable that he took
himself off to France, which his father and uncle knew so
well. At any rate, his only son Robert was taken there
as a boy, received his education iu France and Italy, and
married a French count's daughter. Left to himself
Robert might have followed his father's footsteps; but
fortunately he married as his second wife on March 2, 1760,
Lady Henrietta Gordon, daughter of the 2nd Earl of Aber-
deen, whose influence — entirely on the side of the House
of Hanover — ^permitted bygones to be bygones and made
her launch her sons into the honourable service of the
State.
On the other hand, if the Hallhead Gordons had displayed
gay Gordonism only in their later phases. Lady " Heny,"
as she was called, gave that spirit a great fillip ; but that
demands a new chapter.
CHAPTER III
GORDON'S LIVELY GREAT-GRANDMOTHER
By John Maloolm Bulloch
Lady Henrietta Gordon, who married the poet*s
great-grandfather, was a character. She inherited her high
spirits, not from her father, the second Earl of Aberdeen,
but through her mother. Lady Anne Gordon, a daughter
of the second Duke of Gordon. Furthermore, her elder
half-sister, Catherine, married the third Duke of Gordon
(Lady Henrietta's uncle), so that Lady Henrietta was
brought into intimate personal touch with the ducal family
besides inheriting its audacious blood.
These intermarriages between the ducal and the
Aberdeen Gordons linking up the two great lines of the
north country Gordons, forms an interesting study in
contrasts and neutralisations, the dashing dukes being
steadied by the douce Aberdeens, and the Aberdeens
being enlivened by the ducal blood. The ducal line,
first as Earls, and then as Marquises, of Huntly, had
fought, and died and suffered severely for the house of
Stuart. They were essentially Gay Gordons, reckless,
daring, somewhat unstable, possessing brains and beauty,
and the luck of bom gamblers.
The sixth Earl of Huntly was raised to a Marquisate
(now the oldest in Scotland), but died (in 1686) a State
prisoner. His son, the second Marquis, was beheaded in
1649. The third Marquis was first attainted and then
restored to his honours, while his son in turn was advanced
to a dukedom. His Grace, however, had learned nothing
from the trials of his house, and died a prisoner in the
377
878 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Citadel of Leith (1716). The second Duke had meantime
flirted with Jacobitism and figured on the field of Sherifi-
muir. He recanted, or seemed to recant, in time, largely
through the influence of his wife, but his younger son.
Lord Lewis Gordon of ballad fame, almost brought the
house to pieces by joining the Jacobites. Like Gieorge
Gordon of Hallhead, he managed to escape from CuIIoden,
and died a miserable exile in France.
The third Duke of Gordon, named after Cosmo de
Medici, managed to keep his feet, partly because he had
the good fortune to die early, and partly because he had
married a daughter of the steady-going house of Aberdeen,
which after being ennobled (in 1682) abandoned the wild
ways it had led as the Gordons of Haddo, and, on the whole,
accepted the new reigning regime. Her Grace, Lady
Catherine Gordon, half-sister of Lady **Heny,'* was a very
sensible woman. Seeing how the land lay, she put two of
her boys into the Army and the youngest into the Navy,
and lived to see her first-bom raise two complete regiments,
and marry the brilliant Jane Maxwell, who helped him to
raise two more. But the sound sense of the Duchess
Catherine evaporated in the flamboyant person of her
youngest boy, Lord George of Riot fame, while her second
son. Lord William, scandalised society by bolting with
Lady Sarah Bunbury. These two sparks, then, were
the first cousins of Lady '' Heny," who was certainly
far more like them than she was like her uxorious and
rather ^^ douce *' father the second Earl of Aberdeen.
Lady Henrietta was the elder daughter of Lord Aber-
deen's third marriage, and seems to have been named aft^
her mother's sister. Lady Henrietta Gordon, on whom his
lordship had first cast his eye ; for Susanna, Countess of
Eglinton, writing to Lord Milton on June 2, 1729 (as quoted
in the Eglinton Papers)^ remarks —
^' You say Lord Aberdeen is wanting Lady Hariot
Gordon. It disturbs me not. No doubt his ambitious
views will give his fancie wings. Take care to lope them,
GORDON'S GREAT-GRANDMOTHER 879
as he may soar quite out of reach." Lady ** Hariot "
never married at all, dying in 1789, at the age of 81.
Her niece. Lady Henrietta, married Robert Gordon
of Hallhead, on March 2, 1760, at Wallyford. The
marriage was the subject of an extraordinary corre-
spondence, which was first printed in the Scottish
Review of January, 1885. It appears from the letters
that Lady Henrietta was keen on James Veitch of Eliock,
who was raised to the bench as Lord Eliock on March 6,
1761. Bom in 1712, he was at least thirteen years older
than *^ Heny " ; but she cast a fond eye on the learned
lawyer. The circumstances are told in the letters written
by his sister, Mary. The first of them is dated, Edinburgh,
February 16, 1760 —
" Dear Jamie,—*! am about to write you the oddest
story with a good deal of reluctance, but I thought myself
obliged to do it, so take it as follows : —
** No doubt you will remember Lady Harriott Gordon,
Lord Aberdeen's sister. You'U also perhaps remember
that I told you of an old courtship between her and
Mr. Gordon of Whiteley [apparently Alexander (rordon of
Whiteley, who was the Sheriff-Depute of Elgin], which is
long ago over; and him railing against her to everybody,
particularly her own relations, writing (of) the ill-treatment
he had received from her to her mother and brother, and
notwithstanding, of which they are in the same degree of
intimacy with him, and he is as frequently with them
all as ever except her. She rails at him in her turn, and
runs out of a room as he comes in. Friday night, before
you set out this winter for London, she arrived from
Glasgow, where she had been keeping her Giristmas* She
called at our house on the Saturday night, where Miss
Craik was. I got more of his history that night. Miss
Craik and she tried who should sit the other out, but
Miss Craik got the better, and Mrs. BaiUie and Lady H.
went away. I tell you all this previous to the main
story, that you may understand it the better.
880 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
^* There is a man of the name of (Robert) Gordon, his
title Railhead of Railhead, who has an estate near Raddo
Rouse. This man, though no Papist, was bom in Scotland
but has got his education somewhere in France, and has
been there, and sometimes in Italy, since he was a boy;
that is to say, he has been sixteen years abroad and is
now twenty*six or twenty-eight years old. He came
from Nice last harvest, took London and Edinburgh on
his way to the North, where his estate is, and from thence
he returned to Edinburgh about the time Lady Rarriott
arrived from Glasgow as above — at least she did not see
him tiU some time after. Re soon, I understand, became
her suitor for marriage. She so far accepted of his pro-
posal as to tell her brother she would marry him, and
desired him to write to Wallyf ord to acquaint her mother
of it. Her brother argued with her against it, setting
forth his bad state of health, it being thought he was dying
in a consumption, and wasted to a skeleton.
^' But all was to no purpose. Lady Aberdeen came to
town in the greatest rage against it, just this day se'nn-
night, for it had been on the carpet only a fortnight.
Her mother said it would be a most ridiculous marriage —
the man's want of health ; his having a strict entail on his
estate, which would not admit of anything for younger
children; his having been so long abroad made him
unknown to everybody; that she was well informed
he was in debt ; that could he have raised £200 he would
not have sought her or anybody, but gone directly again
to Nice, to Gen. Paterson, who is his relation ; and in short
abused her for thinking of it.
" All this conversation passed before Lady Ralkerton,
who told me Lady Harriott's answers. In the first place
she told my lady that he was a gentleman as good as them-
selves ; that he had £500 a year ; and that, if he could not
give her £200 a year of fortune, she would be content with
the interest of her own money, which is £2,000, which
bears interest, and £500 my Lord is obliged to give her for
GORDON'S GREAT-GRANDMOTHER 881
wedding clothes; that if he could not give a provision to
younger children^ they would not be Quality, and so could
work for their bread ; and if he was in a strait for a little
ready money, she had £200 in her pocket, which she had
just got from Lord Aberdeen for byegone interest, and he
should have that. As it is to be imagined, Lady Aberdeen
was exceedingly angry with her. She left Lady Hal-
kerton's, went immediately on the Sunday to Wallyford,
and next day to Preston Hall, and has not seen her daughter,
nor desired to see her, since. In the meantime. Lord
Aberdeen arrives in town. She told him the same she
had told her mother. He went off for London, but took
her the length of Wallyf ord, and left her there ; but her
mother being from home, she got a house in the neighbour-
hood, and came back the next morning, which was yester-*
day. In the meantime she wanted to employ lawyers to
look into his charters and entail. My Lord Aberdeen
desired her if she was for that, to employ his dear Frazer,
the writer ; so she took him and Mr. Millar, the solicitor.
Mr. Gordon took Mr. Ferguson of Tillfour, and one Scott,
a writer. So the papers are lying before these gentlemen
just now.
** During the time these transactions are going on, her
brother told her he had often heard she had had a court-
ship with Mr. Veitch ; that had she employed him to trans-
act a marriage with him, he would have been more ready,
and, besides, he knew she would have had the consent of
all her friends. She told him she never had a courtship
with Mr. Veitch; that she liked Mr. Veitch much better
than the man who was seeking her; and were he on the
place and would take her yet, she would marry him and
not Gordon. All the first part of this letter to the last
eight lines was told me by Lady Halkerton and Mrs.
Baillie ; the last eight lines by Mrs. Baillie ; only she added,
as of herself, that she wished you were on the place ; it
would be in your power to put a stop to the marriage with
Gordon. I told her that she had many times given me
882 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
such hints about Lady Harriott in former times, but that
I thought it very improper to take notice of it ; that Lady
Harriott deserved a better match and a younger man;
that for my own part I wished Lady Harriott very well,
and if my brother and her had been pleased, I would
have been pleased also. Mrs. Baillie then expatiated
on her good qualities ; how well Lady Harriott loved you ;
that she was sure were you here, she would instantly
marry you without conditions, and let you make them
yourself afterwards. I told her I had never spoken
in particular with my brother with r^ard to Lady Harriott,
and could not tell what you thought of her ; but I thought
you and she was not well enough acquainted to go so
rashly into a marriage, and that your circumstances
had not been what would have been felt suitable for the
lady ; this and every objection I could make — such as her
coqueting and hanging on every fellow she met with ; and
I condescended on Whiteley ; one Robert Boggle, a nephew
of Lord Woodhall's, now in London, who wanted to have
gone with you ; and another boy, one Gordon, I had met
with her at Mrs. Baillie's. Mrs. Baillie made light of it,
and said it was through the innocence of her heart and for
sport that she diverted herself with these sort of folks.
This conversation only happened on Thursday, when
Lady Harriott went to WaUyford with Lord Aberdeen.
So I minded it no more, and went yesterday to dine with
Miss Preston.
*' While I was at dinner. Lady Harriott arrives from
Wallyf ord, and instantly despatches a servant to enquire
for me, who was not to be found. I came home at six at
night, when Mrs. Baillie was in the house almost as soon
as myself, and fell immediately on the story, ail of which
I answered as before. But how was I surprised in about
half an hour after to see Lady Harriott come in, as it seems
it had been concocted between them. She had not
mentioned her story to me, and I had seen her but once
during this time of her courtship; but now she fell to it
GORDON^S GREAT-GRANDMOTHER 888
directly, in so much that I am quite ashamed of her.
She repeated all that Mrs. Baillie had said before, and
asked if I thought you would accept of her. She would
allow me to write you the story and would put delays to
the other till Wed. se'nnight, which was the return of the
post, and if you should refuse her, she would then go on
with the other. Did you ever hear such a story, and how
I am to put it to be civil and not tell her my mind. How-
ever, I did the best I could, and told her if such a thing
had ever been suggested before and I had talked to you
of it, I would then have told her what had passed ; but, as
I had never had any conversation on that head with you,
I could not tell what you would answer, but that I would
write to be sure.
"" In the meantime when this was going on, she got a
message from her brother, who lodges on the other side
of the street. She took Jack along with her and returned
in less than half an hour. She then took a peak, and said
little till after supper, when she frequently put Mrs.
Baillie in mind to go home, as it was late, for she was to
take a chair. Mrs. Baillie went at last. She told me that
her brother was just come from a meeting of Mr. Millar
and Frazer on her part, and Mr. Ferguson of Tillfour
and Scott on his part; that they had given him their
opinions in writing of what settlements Gordon's affairs
would permit of ; but that he was not satisfied that it was
sufficient for her, but that her and him would go to-day
to Prestonhall and talk to the old Duchess [of Gordon,
nSe Lady Henrietta Mordaunt, who died at Prestonhall,
October 11, 1760] and Lady Aberdeen of it ; that he had
somehow let Mr. Millar, the solicitor, know her regard to
Mr. Veitch ; that Mr. Millar said if that it could be brought
about, it would make him vastly happy. He was so
pleased at the thought he would write to Mr. Veitch
himself, for that nobody was more fit to recommend
Lady Harriott than himself. To this, Mr. Gordon said
she had one to write for her which would do better, meaning
884 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
me. Well, I promise to write, and she goes away. This
morning again she oomes, and tells me her brother advises
I should write two copies of the same letter to you, for
fear of miscarriage, and desired that you should be
punctual to write with the return of the post, and then as
she told me, says she ^ Henry, if that does not take place,
I shall immediately make out the other for you.'
" So away she goes to Prestonhall, and I suppose their
papers along with them. However, after she left me and
before she put her foot in the chaise, she saw the man
Gordon ; upon which she wrote me a note, telling me to
put off writing to you till Tuesday's post. I thou^t I
never got such a relief, because I'm determined to be off
with them; will keep myself out of their sight; and if
there is to be any writing to you, let them do it as they
please.
^^ This and the foregoing sheet was what I was to have
wrote, though they had continued to desire me. As it
is, I had no occasion to have mentioned this affair at all
but I have no certainty for their conduct; nor do I
understand such base ways of doing. They are either mad,
or think other people very foolish. I'm so jumbled ¥rith
these people's proceedings, that I'm not capable of saying
anything, or giving you my opinions about this affair.
But this genuine account will perhaps be of use and prepare
you for a degree in case you are attacked from another
quarter, and I'll write on Tuesday when I hope to be more
composed."
Lord Eliock never married, and by a curious
coincidence died on July 1, 1798, within a few months
of the successful suitor for Lady Henrietta's hand (and
heart ?) ; for the laird of Hallhead departed this life at
Esslemont House on November 2, 1798.
Eccentric as she undoubtedly was. Lady Henrietta,
who died at Aberdeen on April 17, 1814, had a good share
of the strong common sense which distinguished her half-
sister, whose example she followed by giving all the three
GORDON'S GREAT-GRANDMOTHER 886
sons to the State, two to the army and one to diplomacy :
and from this point the history of the Hallhead Gordons
has been almost exclusively naval and military. Indeed,
but for a recrudescence of gay Gordonism, which made
him abandon the services, Adam Lindsay the great-grand-
son might have spent his life in barracks instead of on
the bush.
cc
ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
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III ^i
CHAPTER VI
THE LETTERS OF ADAM LINDSAY QO&DON TO
CHARLEY WALKER
By the kindness of Miss Henriette Walker of Parkstone,
Dorset, I am able to give by far the most considerable
instalment of letters from Adam Lindsay Gordon which
have yet been furnished from any single source. They
also furnish the chief autobiographical data for Gordon's
life, previous to his departure to Australia. These letters
^vrere written to the most intimate friend Gordon had before
he went to Australia — Charley Walker the younger. The
Walkers lived near Worcester. Their mother was a lady
of family and a widow with several children when she
married Old Charley. My informant does not know
whether her maiden name or the name of her first husband
was d*Aven9an, but a French strain came in somewhere.
She was at that time a fair and beautiful woman » with
an air of refinement and dignity. She was very happy
with her new husband, who, as a gentleman jockey, was
much from home, and in sporting circles well received and
entertained. He was a fine and successful rider, and never
without an excellent mount for the hunting field or the
race-course. "The Walkers," says Mrs. Lees, **were a
very happy family. Charley the younger had an expensive
education, and a very cheerful and amiable disposition
in spite of the fact that his father would not start him in
any profession, but kept him at home. Charley Walker
was quite happy in the society of his mother and sisters,
enjoyed reading, had a very healthy appetite and a good
CC2 387
888 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
digestion. He had a keen sense of humour, and never
seemed to think upon his future ; he always used to speak
of his father as the Governor, and was very proud of him,
but he was never seen out with him, and never seemed
desirous of making the acquaintance of any of his set.
He never crossed a horse, and never seemed to wish to.
If he could have a pipe and a book he was happy under any
circumstances/' After a courtship of ten years, he married
Miss Sally Bridges, sister of Miss Jane Bridges, who was
the romance of Adam Lindsay Gk>rdon's life, and is now
Mrs. Lees. He had a son called Lindsay.
Miss Henriette Walker, the daughter of Charley the
younger, to whose kindness I owe the publication of these
letters, tells me that her father was bom at Henwick House,
Worcester, in 1888, the same year that Gk>rdon was bom.
He married SarahBridges in the early 'sixties, and proceeded
to Bombay a few years later to fill an appointment in
connection with railway construction, but was invalided
home in the very first year with dys^itery. Between that
and his death from pneumonia in February 1896, he filled
similar posts at Bristol, Lancaster and Gloucester. He
was a man of fine physique, gentlemanly bearing and gener-
ous impulses, with a love for the open country and sports-
manship in its truest sense. He retained a memory
ever green of the days of his youth, when horsed or afoot
he and Lindsay Gk)rdon followed the hounds of Croome or
Quom, and could recount endless adventures peculiar
to hot-headed, impetuous young manhood when Lindsay
Gordon was resident in Cheltenham.
It will be noticed that Miss Walker says her father did
ride, as seems almost inevitable in a son of Charley the
elder.
When Gk)rdon was in Australia, as mentioned in one ol
the following letters, he called a steeplechaser he had,
Walker, after Old Charley, with whom he corresponded,
and went on corresponding with young Charley for several
years.
LETTERS TO CHARLEY WALKER 889
Lbtkiib I
To C. Walker, Junr.
Copy of a paragraph in Cheltenham, dated May 16.
'' Whxbbas ! L. Gordon, having gone away.
Sundry and divers debts haih failed to pay;
By virtue of the law we here decree
That all hia goods shall confiscated be.
And since, by reason of his tender age.
His creditors, their grievance to assuage
(Albeit they have cause for just complaint).
Upon his person can put no restraint,
Nor cause him to be pulled up at the sessions,
We hereby give them claim to his possessions."
Reply to the above Paragraph.
** Whereas L. Gordon (be it understood)
Hath got no goods that he of any good.
His creditors from Draper^ down to Clee'
To aU the goods aforesaid toelcome he.
And when theyVe nailed what comes within their range
The surplus they may keep and grab the change,
And much he hopes, when they thereof partake,
Beasts of themselves, therewith they will not make."
Skbtch
TotdL
1 Pr. and ^ of boxing gloves.
1 damaged pipe.
1 fendng foil
1 single stick.
1 sporting print.
1 old tin baccy box minus the lid.
1 old knife damaged apparently with cleaning pipes.
1 monkey jacket of singular colour and shape.
1 fancy cap damaged with small shot.
Db. Charley,
IVe no news for you, old cock, except that I
started this mommg much against my will for I was loth
to gOy doubtful of my reception at home and various other
things (here I pause for a moment in anxiety for I hear
^ A tailor in Cheltenham.
' A tobacconist in Cheltenham.
890 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
the Governor coming in at the hall door, upstairs, but no
matter, IVe had a good reception as yet and I suppose
it's all right). Excuse this bad writing,, I was very near,
as I said, stopping to-day, but for once I did my duty,
and I hardly regret it. Please to write and tell me how
your Governor's affairs are settled, I do not know, I came
by train to Ashchurch and walked home by Cleeve from
there, but I missed my way in the fields and made the
journey a long one. The sun was very hot and scorched
my face and hands awful, even now I look as fiery and
sunburnt as a Tartar from the walk. Now, you beggar,
you must write me a line and tell me some news directly, I
only want a line, I have seen the Governor and he's all
serene, but I have an unpleasant matter or two to break
to him worse luck to it. Now if you have seen Jane,
tell me how her throat is, and everything you know, besides.
As I was sitting in the bar at St. Johns along with Jane,
who should come in but F. Baker, Esq.,^ hatter and
hosier, they neither spoke, but Jane'ems kept her counten-
ance most admirably and went on with what she was saying
to me as unconcerned as if old Wallace had walked in.
While poor Freddy looked terribly disconcerted and bolted
almost inunediatdy, I answered Jane in a tone of voice
mimicking his, and he couldn't stand that.
Yrs. very truly,
L. GOBDON.
Lbttbb II
** Charley ! Here I am at last
Quartered in my old poaition.
Though from having lived so fast
I'm in rather poor condition.
Came by train to save my feet,
On a walk I wasn't nuts,
Got home, drowsy, crabbed and beat.
Pockets empty, ditto gvi$}^
^ A Worcester tradesman.
LETTERS TO CHARLEY WALKER 891
I had an awful row with the Grovemor here, I mean
my father, the honble. Capt. He gave it me straight, and
I was in a deuce of a rage over it. It was not my fault
and about a mere trifle, I shall leave him again if he doesn't
mind before very long. I wonder what you'll do next
Sunday. You must tell me when you write what you do
on your larking day. I dare say you'll go to Broughton
if you can muster courage. I don't think myself (knowing
the charity of the sex) that the ladies are much disgusted
at our frolic, it was a childish affair as you said. Miss
Jenny vrill be apt to consider us two confounded fools,
and she'll be about right, seeing that like Margery Daw in
the old song we actually left our beds to lie upon stmw.
What's that Nursery Rhyme ? Jane'ems will chaff you
a bit, old boy. Mr. Bridges has heard of our serenading
the Lion so uncourteously and the other inns in the neigh-
bourhood, but not the glove affair, I hope, which is the
worst part. I hope Sally won't be crabbed at my valentine.
I'm sorry I sent it, but I couldn't help our quarrel. You
told me, she wouldn't stand my writing to Jane, but if
I'd believed you I should have done the same, for as you've
already found out Jane'ems was my favourite all along.
I wish I knew more about her, but she puzzles me, tho' I
used to fancy myself a pretty sharp hand, but this I know,
she is, or was very near, engaged, if not quite. I never
came any nonsense to her, because I saw she would not
stand it, besides it would have been too near earnest for
me. It would serve me right if I'm down-right nutty at
last, for I've fooled with girls so often, and never cared
a rap for them, not that I ever deceived them, as they
call it, or at least not intentionally. Well, I shan't make
a fool of myself, so don't fear. Not even for Jenny, if
I see her again, which I'm not sure of, but you'll see
I'm not going to gammon you, so I shall stop and say
enough on that score. It's seldom I talk so long about such
matters, I generally keep my own counsel and think more
than I speak, like t}ie nigger's parrot, but I don't knoi^
892 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
what to say» and, having no news must talk nonsense,
besides, I'm in a bad temper just now.
When I ride at Cheltenham I'll win or break my neck,
I'm determined ; by Jove what a finale that would be to
my riding, fighting, love-making, debt-eontracting» et hoc
genus omne, larks. I'm a bright article and no mistake,
quite an uncommon genius, in brief words a star, but a
wandering one. What's that in the Bible about wandering
stars, I remember it somewhere, I think it's in St. Jude.^
** Now fuewell, bat let me warn you, ere IVe said my laat
Yoa may laugh at all things earthly, while your pluck is stout and true;
Put no faith in aught you meet with, friends oi hvert new or old
Never trust the gamest racehorse that was ever reared or foaled.
If you find your lady fickle, take it cool and never heed ;
If you get a bill delivered, roU U up and lighi your weed;
11 a foe insults your honour, kU out straight and wop him todl;
If your thickest friend turns rusty, teU him he may go to h — U,
Fame is folly, honour madness, love delusion, friendship sham;
Pleasure paves the way for sadness, none of these are worth a d ^n.
But a stout heart proof 'gainst fate is, when there can be nothing more
done.
This advice is given gratis, by yrs. truly, Lindsay (Gordon.'*
P.S, — I was breakfasting with the Governor when a
row began in a curious way rather. I'll relate it. ** You
don't seem in a mood for breakfast this morning," says he,
when I refused some eggs and ham. ^^ Not much," says
I, ^^ you ought to have seen me a week or so ago, eating
cochin china eggs." ^^ Was that when you stopt a week
in the country? " says he ; I stared at him and said yes.
*^ You'd got a good-looking lady to make tea perhaps,"
says he in his sarcastic manner. I was a bit surprised, but
keeping cool assured him as he was so inquisitive that he
was right or thereabouts. " Ah," says he in the same
tone, ** I suppose that was the farmer's daughter your
imcle says you've been hanging after." This pulled me
up and I felt myself getting a little warm, partly with
surprise and partly with annoyance, however, I made
^ " Raging waves of the sea, foaming out their own shame; wandering
stars, to whom is reserved the blackness of darkness for ev(^."-^ude }.3.
LETTERS TO CHARLEY WALKER 898
answer in this form, ^*I don't know," says I, ^^ what gammon
my micle may have swallowed, but at all events she's
better than your precious son-in-law that is to be. I think,"
I said, "you've studied my sister's interests nicely by letting
her have her way." " Well," said he, with his usual
coolness, ^^ I suppose I'm to thank you for a daughter-
in-law soon of another stamp." " Never you fear, Gover-
nor " (says I), speaking loud as I do when I get angry,
^^ You may make your mind at rest on that score, for a
damned good reason why, even suppose I wanted her, she
wouldn't have me, tho' I am the Honble. Capt. Gordon's
son, so (says I) write and thank her for it. You ought to
be much obliged to her if I'm not I " And I walked out
and shut the door. It put the old boy in such a rage
that next opportunity he set to to abuse me about a bill
which came in for me, and gave him an excuse, and we
had an awful row — ^worse luck to it.
Yrs. very truly,
A. L. Gordon.
Lbttbb III
Dr. Charley,
I received your letter and am much obliged to
you for it. I am rather crabbed at the contents, for I
was sorry directly after I had sent the letter that I had
asked you to show it to Jane. Send me word by return of
post to say whether you think that Jane suspected that
J wanted her to see it and told you to show it her, and also
whether this conference went on in Sally's hearing, both
which things should have been avoided. I never wanted
Jane to think I was indifferent to Sally, and, indeed, I
was far from it, but Jane tried all she knew to end our
friendship, and I shall tell her so next time I see her, if
she comes any nonsense I shan't stand it.
Yours truly,
Lindsay Gordon
894 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Lbttbb IV
25, Priory Street,
Cheltenham.
Dear CHABiiEY,
I sit down after dinner to recount {ever a pipe)
my troubles and grievances, and talk over old times, etc.
I am as dull as a deserted dunghill cock minus the consola-
tion of wives and brethren, I have almost no friends here
and do not want any, but I shall spend no money (which is
a blessing), and also escape racket and bother which is
just the thing for me. Now mind you write and tdl
me how things go on, keep square with Bamett ^ and youli
be all right I hope. What asses we made of ourselves the
other night and yet there's something consoling in thinking
of our sprees ; even the night in the bam has a charm about
it, I could never have done it by myself with such spirits
and don't think you could. I got off with great difficulty
this morning, didn't at all like turning out so early, and
not having a great coat with me was rather the reverse
of nutty on the journey. I also had to go down to Pearce's
for my carpet bag and then go home again to fill it, bnt
running and walking fast I got quite warm and went thro'
the journey like a trump. If you see the Broughton
folks this week you know what to say. Don't tdl Jane'ems
what you suspect I wanted to say, but say that I passed it
over in the morning and laughed at the idea, adding that
I supposed the governor's spirits had inspired me with a
fit of temporary insanity, or maybe the moon was in power
and affected my disordered brain, thus leaving you in
ignorance of my darkly hinted purposes concerning which
she may make her own conclusions ; excuse the window
business, those gloves stick in my mind and I wish the
ledge had been out of the way, say it was done for a lark
and nothing more, I dare say we shall get forgiven and the
Gk)vemor perhaps will not have heard of it. I wonder
^ One of the principal promoters of the ^j^orceeter Baoee, for soiDe
yean deoea8ed|.
3f -
\ ;
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S3 E
• ••
• • • «
*.• • •
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• •••• :•*
• • • • •• •
•••••• •
• •
• ••-
I • • • 4
• _ •
LETTERS TO CHARLEY WALKER 895
what effect my ^ valentine niade» find out if possible but
don't say I showed it you ? (Here the letter is torn)
... on Sunday afternoon, let me know and I will come
over (the rest missing).
Lettbb V
Db. Chabley,
I haven't much news for you, old boy, but what
I have is rather favourable. Write and tell me if you shall
be disengaged next Sunday, and I'll come over Sat. to
see you. I was obliged to lie in bed last Simday with an
exaggerated headache, you may guess why (togs). I told
the whole story of the race to the Governor (my father,
I mean) and he was rather crabbed and said I shouldn't
have been done if he could have known it in time. I've
been a most unlucky fellow all along, but there's no good
grumbling. Give me a line and I will pay you a visit
if you like. I've got over this scrape pretty well for no
one knows of it. I mean the forfeit job.^ I am surprised
at the calm and stagnant state of things, and wonder how
long they'U last. I'm excellent friends with Papa. He's
written to London to make a last effort for an Indian
appointment for me ; if he fails I shall go into the Queen's
Regiment. I've no fancy for Australia now, in fact I
don't feel disposed to throw a chance away, and don't
feel so romantic as I did in the bam.
I had a good laugh this morning. There's a chap comes
here sometimes to do our garden and other jobs, a rough
looking customer. He married a pretty girl that used to
be a servant here, and I used to play the fool with her a
little ; well some one's been telling this chap all sorts of lies
about her and me, and he gives her no peace and bullies her
about a shawl I sent her a year ago, and more (which I put
down to my brother* s (mother's?) bill,and got in a row about )«
and now he says he'll give me a remembrance if he can get
^ Soe Gloasary, p. 327 and pp. 20S-209. * Seep. 108 and pp. 214-215.
896 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
a chance. He has been here while I was away» so I've
hardly seen him, our servant told me this, and he's coming
again to-morrow. I'll give him the queerest cutting up
he ever had or I'll try it on, anyhow, he's a rough chap
but has no length of arm and I hate him already for being
jealous without a cause and worrying a nice girU a deal too
good for him. If you want me to come give me a line.
I am going to redeem the Governor of my backslidings.
Yrs. very truly,
Lindsay Gobdon.
Lbttrb VI
Db. Charley.
I've let this letter lie two days and have since had
a row with my Jewish money-lender, M , not F. M.,
but the Israelite. I have, however, squared him in gallant
style, so I'm not beat yet. I've kept my pi uck up wonder-
fully, and as I smoke my little pipe (the one I dropt at
Broughton and Jenny picked up unbroken, which makes
it doubly valuable of course) I feel quite heroic, but I
can't help thinking how much better ofi I should have been
if I'd come round sooner. Write and tell me the news for
I am as didl as a deserted dunghill, but let us hope for better
times. I'm doing penance now with a vengeance.
Yours truly,
A. L. GrOBDON.
lbtteb vn
Db. Chabley,
I had an execrable journey home, hexposed to
the fury of the helephants (elements), as our maidservant
says, the whole time the rain was incessant and sometimes
very heavy, and the roads were swamped. I was as wet
as U I'd been ducked in the river before I'd gone many
miles, but I persevered like a trump. Going up that hill out
of Seven Stoke ^ the storm was blinding, and the hill side
^ Severn Stoke, Woroesterahire.
LETTERS TO CHARLEY WALKER 897
so slippery that I could hardly make any head against
the wind and hail which beat in my face, while a literal
stream was washing down the road as high as my ankles.
Whether the effects of my Saturday debauch with our
brave comrade, Josh,^ had not quite departed, or whether
I was out of condition or what, I can*t tell, but I got so
sick that I was obliged to lean against a stile for a minuit
{sic) or two and unbotton my waistcoat ; but I had such
^ u (J.
GoidoD walking In the rftin. Scorn a afcetoh by himoelf, Mptodnoed
bj peimisBion of Hin H. Walkra.
f»>nfidence in my powers of endurance and game that I
never doubted the fact that I shotdd rally again, and
after another mile or two I was striding along like a brick,
but I presented a miserable appearance on reaching home,
and looked more like a drowned scarecrow than a raticoial
Christian. My immortal doe-skin pantaloons were wringing,
wet and stuck to my pins so tight that you could hardly
tell that I*d got any on. I wrung about a quart of water
out of my hair, and all the things in my pockets were
dripping, I was obliged to dry my tobacco at the kitchen
1 Ui. JoahiM Bridges.
898 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
fire before I could smoke it niody, and the blue was washed
out of my necktie into my shirt, but I walked fast enough
to keep warm the whole time» and a good tea and some
rum and water, as usual, stopt all bad effects. I smoked
my dried tobacco and went to bed as snug as possible.
I rather like these difficulties, there's some pleasure in
going thro' them, and it's like doing penance for other
follies. (N.B. Not always a voluntary one.) We'll have
a lark at these races if all goes square.
«' -,
Gordon winning'a foot-race. Sketched by himself, reproduced by permiasioo of
MiB8 H. Walker.
I've really got no news for you, and no orders at present
Tell your Gk>vemor that I was too late for the train.
I'm tolerably independent of the railway. I flatter myself
Jenny may laugh at my legs, but they get me out of many
a scrape, and you know yourself that I take a deal of
catching, in fact they're quite as useful to me as my fists.
Did I tell you about my winning a pair of shoes off young
Hescotte of this town, who fancies he can run ? I gave
him two yards in a hundred.
Bravo the jtmior member of the Rooking division I
Yours truly,
L. Gordon.
LETTERS TO CHARLEY WALKER 899
Lbttib VIII
Deab Charley,
I lounged about Worcester with the Captam on
Tuesday morning and went to see Elrington, who was on
the parade ground with the militia, but did nothing of
consequence. I saw the Governor (I mean yours), he
has haid Crabbs number 1000, having figured in the County
Court and been bullied by that long-nosed rabbit and the
old judge about some debt, but he cheeked them awfuUy,
called them all the scamps on earth, and finished by putting
his hat on in the courts turning up his aristocratic nose,
turning his back on them, and walking coolly away. I
walked over to Cheltenham after dinner, every inch of
the way, started at three and got here about twenty-five
minutes to nine, but was very tired. I overtook a goodish-
looking girl about five miles from Tewkesbury carrying
a huge basket which was too heavy for her, and being
touched at the sight I offered to carry it for her, which
I did till within a mile of Tewkesbury, but didn't half
like it, it was infernal heavy ; she told me her master used
her very badly and all sorts of things, but of course I
could do nothhig for her except comfort her a bit.
I should make a good knight errant at times, but I
think a highwayman would suit me better. I had serious
thoughts of stopping the mail coach when it came in sight
but resisted the temptation'as I had no pistol or bludgeon
to enforce my conmiands. No summons has as yet
appeared against me and the Governor is very friendly.
Yrs. truly,
L. Gordon.
If you could manage to find out whether J— e has been
in Worcester this week, and send me word on Friday
morning or Thursday night so that I could know on Friday
morning, I will come over on foot — ^for the day. I have
got some squaring (?) to do and you shall have your
(word missing).
ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
■V
a*
Si
•■^iST^
LETTERS TO CHARLEY WALKER 401
L&TTBB IX
Dr. Chaeley,
I walked over yesterday but stopping at Jack
Newman's fann,i j ^y ^ot get home till latish. After I
left you I determined to be game again for once, and a
sudden reaction taking place, I went home as pleased as
Punch to think there was a chance left still for things to
be squared and a determination to knock under and
please the Governor by a full confession and promise of
^
A. li. Gordon. Sketched by himseH, reproduced by permission of Miss H. Walker.
amendment, which same promise I inwardly determined
to keep, and become a more straightforward and steady
member of society, for it's quite awful what a scamp I've
been for a long time. I got my washing things from
Pierce's, and went home to my great-aimt's where the
maid-servant let me in and took up to my Governor's
bedroom. I asked her if there were any night-shirts of
his about and she said No, but presently brought me in
one of her own and made me wear it ; it was a little thing
with frill cuffs and collar, and as she is about half my
height you may imagine what a figure I cut, there were
^ At Stoke Orohard, Qeeye, GlouceBtenhire (Al&ed Hohnan),
0D
402 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
no buttons to the cuffs and I had to squeeze my fist
through them, no easy task.
You should have seen the servant laugh when she came
in and found me in it» I thought I should have split
myself. There's too much calf on one of my legs but
I can't alter it now.
I was as game as a sandboy going home smoking and
chaunting profane songs, to the horror of even the cows
and sheep who had sufficient ear for tune to be incon-
venienced. I shall see the Governor when he comes
back from College. I think between us, Miss Jane Bridges
has taught me a good lesson, tho* a disagreeable one.
I shall be more careful about the truth in future. I
used to hate lies worse than any one, but I got so hardened
lately. I didn't mind telling truths (?) but couldn't bear
being found out. In fact, I told them without knowing
it almost, latterly.
Gk)od-bye, old broken pipes, keep up your pluck and
some day we shall get a turn of luck.
Yrs. very determindly
Lindsay Gordon.
Dr. Charley,
I'm going to perform again the week after the
races at the York Theatre ^ in an amateur performance,
having had my service strenuously requested to con-
tribute to the tdlent of the company. I've had some talk
with the Governor, and seriously he means packing me
off in a month if he can, but I'm not quite sure I mean
going. DonH tell any one of ihis or I shall have no peace^
he had a letter from the India House, and I shall not be
able to get an appointment to India for a long time.
I suppose he thinks I can't be kept quiet here, and he's
about right. It will be the best thing I've no doubt,
and I don't dislike the idea. I long to begin the world
^ At Cheltenham. See p. 156.
4 ^
CM ^^
1 ^\
404 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
afresh as it were, and get out all old grievances, but I've
so many things to do before I can get off that I mean
to consider the length of time seriously. I hope the
old man is going on well, I should like to see the Worcester
Autunm event come oJS nuts, but I am sick of crabbs.
The Governor has got an offer of an appointment as
officer in (what should you think ? ) the Moimted Police *
in Australia, devilish good pay, a horse, three suits of
regimentals yearly and lots of grub» for me, of course,
I don't mean for himself, and he wants me to take it.
I think I shall, in fact it's no use mincing the matter,
I know I musty but I must do something before I start
to make my friends remember me, rob somebody or
something equally notorious. I've got some money now,
and I shall have to come over on Sat. (only for an hour
or so), take a return ticket, to get some decent togs and
a hat, as I am going to Church, on Sunday. It's astonish-
ing how early I look forward to the event of my departure,
but I must see the programme for the steeplechases next
November before I can tell ; young Holmes of this town
has asked me to ride his mare at a little hurdle race
coming off near Gloucester. (N.6.) He won't see much
of the stake if I win, eh t
I've no idea of ending my riding career in the Chelten-
ham brook as seen in the next page. I shall see you
on Tuesday morning or Monday night if not on Saturday.
Yrs. truly,
L. Gordon.
Miss Jenny had heard all about the night-larks and
capture of the Rooking Mare ^ with the various exaggerated
and non-exaggerated details of the glorious transaction,
that was bad enough, but what crabbed me worst was
something she told me respecting a matter with that
lout of Purchas, whom I shall shortly visit and having first
done the correct^ shall teach him to keep his own counsel,
1 See p. 24. > See pp. 211 to 216,
406 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
and you shall come and see it done if you like, but don't
interfere the least ; not that I mean to hurt the fool, I
shall only frighten him and that's easily done. It was
rather too hard on me, I thought, of Miss Jenny to tell
me of it, the hardest thing for a man to swallow is a half-
truth and an unpleasant one, btU she always tells me what
she thinks on such matters, and strange to say I always
stand it ; if I were to see her often enough I think she'd
almost reform me, not that she'd take the trouble to do
that either. She sent little Fanny to bed without her
dinner for telling a fib. I tried to beg the young 'un off,
but it was no go ; I wish some nights when Fm locked
out some kind person would send me to bed for tdling
a fib. If I was always punished that way I should be
expensive in clean sheets. The idea quite amused me,
and I could have laughed all the way home that evening,
if I hadnH felt rather more inclined to cry. Fancy, the
night after when I had to scramble that high wall out of
Laurson (sic) Walk, wouldn't I have concocted a buster
to have saved myself all that trouble. I half denied
that matter with Purchas out of pure shame, and tho'
Jane didn't believe me, she was amiable enough not to
press the matter as she has done sometimes. It's a
queer thing that people hear nothing but harm of me,
ain't it ? I must be a strong-minded fellow to bear it
so well. I've half a mind to bolt to the West now, but
I don't quite fancy it. No one will give me credit for
caring much about anything or anybody, as my father
himself said, ^^ I never saw any one so independent of
everybody, you're just the man to go, Li, for you won't
care a bit about leaving every one behind you, and precious
few will care about your leaving either. Now the
second clause was right enough, and I don't think my
departure will cause much sensation except among sundry
Jews and tailors, tho' they are almost all paid now,
thanks to the Governor, but I have more tenacity for home
than people would fancy. No one gives the thoughtless
LETTERS TO CHARLEY WALKER 407
scamp, the rake, the fire-eater credit for one bit of feeling,
which is a slight mistake, though perhaps not such a
great, one, for a man's feelings will get wonderfuUy
deadened and blunted by evil report. And so it is that
if a man makes one false step, society will force him on
to fifty others. One thing in my favour, I shall soon be
in a different position if I can keep quiet, and in this
wicked world all the foUies of youth are looked over and
forgotten if a man can retrieve his worldly standing and
improve, not out of charity^ mind ye, Charley, but out
of respect for a goodish position no matter how it's got
or where it comes from.
Confound this pen.
*' What if friends desert in taN>iible, Fortune can recall them yet^
Faithful in champagne and annshine, false in eloude and heavy wet.
Who would troBt in mankind's daughter, since by Eve onr fall was
planned;
Woman's lore is writ on water; woman's faith is traced on sand.
Fame is folly, etc., etc**
I'm going out a ride to-morrow. If I wasn't afraid of
being induced to stop I'd come to Worcester for an hour
or so, but it's too near and I've a vivid recollection of my
last ride over.
Keep up your pluck, old boy, and tell my creditors
to have faith as a grain of mustard seed. Regards to all
inquiring friends^* I've got an invitation to tea with a
female friend, but I shan't go to-night.
Yrs. like blazes,
A. L. Gordon.
LiTTSB XI
CSieltenham,
Friday.
*******
a second before he could regain his balance and dropt
him like a hot potato, then turning to Devereux, who
having recovered his feet was prepared to renew the
contest by attacking his foe while an the ground^ I threw
408 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
him half over my shoulder in the Theatrical ravishing
style and carried him back, not to old Virginia's sh<»e,
but to his own domicile, fastening the door of the en-
trance and depositing him in his own bar. He refused,
however, to go to bed without standing some more sheny
(a pint, I think), and after trying to dissuade him, I
drank it for him and helped him upstairs, his better halt
a neat little woman, who evidently was deluded with
the idea that I was quite a star, and one of the nobbiest
nobs, as Tom says in your book, lighted me to the best
room in the house, asking what time I'd be called in the
morning, and whether I'd have my breakfast in bed.
I thanked her, but declined the latter offer and postponed
the first, and lighting my short pipe smoked and laughed
to myself for an hour before I could go to sleep ; but in
the morning the bitter remembrance of my empty pod^ets
recurring afresh, and remembering that the effects of
the liquor would have left my host and the glare of the
gas lights ceased to bewilder my hostess, I dressed leisurely
and took my departure in peace. You know the rest,
as I saw you soon after ; I was glad to find myself at home
again yesterday evening. While I was having my tea
in the kitchen the Governor came downstairs and we had
some talk. I asked if he'd taken my passage, and told
him I was ready to go and the sooner the better, adding
that there was no good shivering on the brink when one
plunge would make it all over. He was very pleased to
hear me speak so, and said that he had the best letters
of introduction possible for me, one to the Governor of
Adelaide and one to General Campbell, also to Dundee
and Ashwin, and he added that I should have a first-rate
outfit and that he would lodge some money in the Adelaide
bank for me, and concluded by saying that whatever
I wanted before I went I could have, and what money
I liked. I drew a long breath as he went out, and felt
for a moment that choking sensation of sorrow which
^ man experiences when he knows all the hopes he's
LETTERS TO CHARLEY WALKER 409
cherished are scattered and blighted for ever ; you know
the sensation, perhaps, Charley, when one feels as if the
air one breathed in was like liquid lead, but I swallowed
it somehow, and turning away from the remains of my
meal, gave vent to a long whistle and lit my pipe. The
Governor will be jolly glad to get rid of me, for tho' he's
really fond enough of me he can't bear to see me going
on so, a bye-word in the family, as he expressed it. He
said once he'd sooner see me in my grave, and I don't
know but what I felt much the same thing myself some-
times. But it's a great blessing to be able to get away
from such localities and societies as I've frequented,
and I have little to care about leaving noWy to say nothing
of the extreme minuteness of the loss I shall be to society ;
doubtless a few duns will make a passing inquiry after
my welfare, but except by them there's no one whose
exit will be felt so little. I'm tolerably jolly on the whole
at the prospect, for I shall come back in two years and
sooner if I dislike the place ; directly our affairs get a bit
settled the Governor says I can come back. I have
enclosed (?) his — and shall send it to-day. I have no
time to say more.
Yrs. very truly,
L. Gordon
Lettxb XII
Penola (South Australia),
November 1864.
My deab Chabley,
I have just received your letter and it did me
good to hear from you, I can assure you. I am writing
by return of post, the mail starts early in the morning
and I am tired to-night as I have been watching a prisoner
lately. We have no cells at the station, which is, in fact,
only a settler's hut, and my handcuffs would not go on
his wrists. I apprehended him on a warrant for horse-
stealing, but I do not think the charge can be proved
410 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
the' it is dear enough. He is a rough customer, a
man, and as strong as a bullock, but men out here are
not very scientific fighters, and he is rather shy of me.
He was bouncing when I first took him, and on arriving
at the station here I showed him an old pr. of boxing-
gloves and he put them on. We set to and I proved
a bit too long in the reach for him; in a rally, the last
round he caught me in the body, the only fair blow I
got, and nearly stopped my breath, but I took him at
the same instant between the eyes a right-hander with
all my strength and floored him. I have the reputation
o/ a good man about here, but more by hearsay and report
than anything else, tho' I did polish ofi one chap well,
but most of these rough bushmen are so horrid, strong
and heavy that it requires all the efforts of superior
science and determination to beat them. I am in better
health than ever I remember being and much stronger
than I was, the active and sober life a man leads in this
bracing climate (if he does not drink mtich) will soon take
away all the bad effects of early dissipation and irregular
life. When I left England my health was impaired, my
strength shattered and my very pluck broken down and
enfeebled by the life I had been leading, but it is not so
now. I am getting stout and healthy, and as sunburnt
as a mulatto. I believe a good hard blow would have
knocked me to pieces the last few months I was in
England, and now I could take a deal of hammoring.
I have a horse for the steeplechase next meeting, which
comes off in a few months. I have ridden with some success
since I have been out here, but do not take the same
interest in it I used to
So the Governor is in luck again. I am rejoiced to
hear it, and he had ridden the old black *un ^ at Birmingham
Knowle but was beat. She was never such a good one
as he thought, tho' at heavy weights and four miles I
think she would take some beating.
) Probably hsXUk RoolA.
LETTERS TO CHARLEY WALKER 411
I wish I had her here» horses do not go so fast as they
do m England. And so poor Skinner wanted to see
me before I left, I am very glad I escaped him, and has
he shot a man by accident ? He is ill too, you say.
Well I am sorry for him, for tho' I think he was an enemy
of mine if ever I had one, he never could do me so much
harm as I have done myself, but it's all for the best,
Charley, and now I am steady and have a horse or two
and a little cash and some good togs which never go up
the spoiUf and I may come back before long. My little
sister^ is married, I hear. You may have heard of it,
and is gone with my new brother-in-law to Paris. I
have not seen her for a long time, I believe she is good-
looking . . . you will not mention this I know, but I look
on you as a brother. And my dear Jane too ! I have not
forgotten her, for I never reaUy cared for any other girl.
(I hope she is not altered either in appearance or any-
thing). By Heaven, Charley, when you and I knew her
she was one in a thousand. Do you remember the day
we left Pershore on our return from Beckford and visited
Broughton, and when we left together do you remember
your remark respecting her ?
I don't know that she was so very handsome, Charley,
but she had one look I thought beautiful. I remarked
it more at some times than at others. So you are nutty
on . Sally, eh I And a very good girl she will be, and is
getting sensible I have no doubt. Has she ever forgiven
me ? Tell me this in your next. She spoke like a trump
for me to Skinner when he was saying the reverse. You
ask me if there are many women out here. So does Jane*
But there are few worth mentioning ; by the bye there
is a sweet, pretty girl not thirty miles away from here. I
saw her the other day, but she is a mere child, a Scotch girl
(don't mention it to any one), but I should like you to
see her ; she has deep blue eyes with black lashes, glossy
clustering dark-brown hair, very pretty animated features
^ Inez, who married Gav Ratti.
412 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
and a dazzling complexion. I do like going by thift way
to talk a little nonsense to her, but I do not pretend to be
a lady-ki]ler» and very much despise those who do, so
I will not pitch about women any more or you will think
I am as great a fool as I used to be. / shoiM like to see
Jenny tho^, and know how she is getting on. I dare say
she has forgotten me, or thereabouts. We have a jolly
life rather out here. When at home we are our own
masters and can lounge and smoke or make ourselves
tidy and ride about at leisure, and when going round the
country you have only to fancy yourself a moss trooper of
the olden time and your situation is quite romantic.
You make yourself welcome everjrwhere, put your horse
in the paddock, get your meals, light yoiur pipe.
Lbttbb XIII
Pbnola,
October 1855.
My dear Charley,
I have just received your epistle enclosed in a
parcel from the Governor which reached here some months
ago, but which I have only just received ; do not think that
I have been negligent in answering your letters, this is
the second I have received and mine too may have mis*
carried. As for Old Friendship, as Shakespeare says —
" Let not my cold words here accuse my zeal.**
Yr letter recalled a thousand old reminiscences and made
me draw my breath short more than once in the perusal.
A note from yr father was enclosed and also one from my
dear little Jane. You remember how fond I was of her,
Charley, so no more on that head. I am delighted at yr
Father's success. I have heard since then that he has won
a race at Birmingham. Was it on my namesake the Capt ?
Walker (my bay horse) of whom I told you, has added
fresh laurels to his fame and will, if I mistake not, astonish
the natives yet, tho' some of them little expect it. I was
LETTERS TO CHARLEY WALKER 418
amused at yr account of the dinner and spree. Take care
of Charley and avoid hard drinking. I have had to give
it up. You heard doubtless of my illness brought on by
the heat of the weather on a constitution weakened by
excesses, and I believe that the games I carried on in early
days even long before you knew me have had their weight.
But thank God a few months of total abstinence and a
sober active life have restored health, strength, spirits and
pluck to a wonderful extent and I am now as good a man
as ever I tvas^ and with hopes of being a still better one, and
I mean to show some of the cocktails yet what stuff I'm
made of. Excuse my bounce, Charley (the old failing),
but some months ago I had not even pluck to bounce.
I have just returned from a journey to Adelaide with a
cranky customer. I have sent in my resignation. When I
leave the Force I shall be busy for a month or two with some
yotmg Stock (colts) I want to get rid of and shall then D.V.
be again upon the sea for home. I wonder if I shall find
Jane married by the bye, I half expect to. To- you I am
neither afraid nor ashamed to own that I would marry her
to-morrow if I had the chance and she would have me.
So you have a rival for S in a certain Shakespeare, he
must be an ugly beggar if he is so like me. You said
something in your last about my being a Crichton in a
certain sense ; I am no such thing, I never was a lady killer,
and if I ever fancied myself one it was a childish lunacy
which has worn off. I think I have got rid of one bad
fault at least, I mean vanity, of which I must say I had a
tidy share in my juvenile days. You remember my speaking
in my last or last but one of a goodish-looking girl whom
my companion and I both fancied a bit. She is now
sitting opposite me, the wife of the former (my companion
in arms), which makes the Barracks look more comfortable.
I certainly tried it on strong, but without success ; not that
I meant Matrimony, but had it not been for a certain
old attachment I daresay I should have gone a long way
towards it sooner than he cvi out and beat. Not that I
414 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
am vain enough to presume that she preferred me to her
present husband whom she seems very fond of, but yet
at one time I thought she liked me, and the competUion
whieh is the mainspring of my life led me on. I expect
she would be wild U she saw this and I hate writing what
I should not like to say, so enough on this head. Tell yr
father that Walker has had a long spell, nearly six months,
and has been blistered too in front, which has made his
back sinews beautifully fine. He is as fat as a whale and
as fresh as a four yr old, he is only six yr old, but has been
knocked about so in his younger days and has never had a
chance, have been grass-fed and galloped after stock which
made him stalCy slow and footsore. I mean to train him
gently, walking exercise, lots of com, and the back sinews
of the fore legs well hand rubbed in cold water. I rode him
to Wells' and back this morning for the first time since he
was turned out (two miles) to try a new saddle and see
how it fitted him. I only walked him of course, but he
seemed as strong as a lion to what he used to be and
crossing the race*course on my return I could not resist
the temptation to lark him over one of the leaps. He
cleared it like a bird, as different to his old stale way of
larking as you can conceive. I am sure he will prove
faster and fresher when trained than most of os fancy.
My next letter shall be to yr father with an accoimt of the
Steeplechase he will go for. The saddle I speak of is one
of Wilkinson and Kidd's (London) and my father sent it
me with some other things. Your letter amongst them. I
really have no time to say more but will enclose you some
news which may please you before long. Regards to your
father^ remembrance to Joshia^^ Respects to Sarah,^ and Laos
to Jancy to you the assurance of eternal brothership will
suffice.
Yrs. sincerely,
Lindsay Gordon.
^ The brother and sister of Jane Bridges,
LETTERS TO CHARLEY WALKER 415
I have another galloper, a chestnut colt, Maxeppa, faster
I think than Walker, but neither so game nor so lasting.
I suspect he will carry feather weight in his first race and
ought to go well.
L. G.
I have not fought much lately, but it may amuse you to
hear that I did hit out a few weeks ago. Our blacksmith
was the victim, a strohgish chap but no science, he was
rather the worse for liquor too and was sober I, but in a
d--d bad humour. He hit me a chapping blow in a scuffle
and roused my monkey. I got clear of him and returned
the spank with interest, cutting his eye. He came at me
three times and each time I met him with the right and
twice took him clean off his legs, so he dropt it altogether.
They were straight fairish spanks, each left a clean knuckle
gash. My left I never wed. We are good friends now.
L. G.
Lettkb XIV
Adelaide,
January 1857.
Dear Old Chaalet.
IVe not forgotten you, my dear boy, tho' IVe had
much to keep me occupied of late, and now I'm afraid tho'
there is much I could say I feel little spirit to write long at
present. But I never take up my pen to address you
without a swarm of old recollections crowding across my
brain, and I could scribble for four hours without getting
thro' all I might wish to say had I time and patience to do
so. As it is I must confine myself to a few of the leading
outlines of my eventful history. I left the police at the
dose of October, but I have been working on my own
accoimt since, to wit, stock-jobbing, i, e. trucking and
dealing in horseflesh and bringing colts overland for
myself and others. Till this last week I have hardly been a
day out of the saddle and have accomplished four journeys
between Adelaide and Victoria, which is good work, besides
416 ADAM LINDSAY GOUDON
breaking in several oolts, selling and buying and selling
again. Any one of my journeys if recounted would fill two
of these sheets, but as they are much alike and the novelty
of this life h€is worn off long ago I vdll not enlarge upon
them. Suffice to say that I have been rather unlucky ; I
like to give a true and faithful account of myself when I
write to you, so I will not romance, as it does me good to
unburden my mind a little, and tho' I can still draw the
long bow at times what I tell you shall be fact and nothing
else. I am used to ill-luck and not least likely to fret over
money lost, besides I consider experience gained to be worth
something especially where a man has tried boldly and well
to carry out a difficult undertaking and has pluck and
energy not to be disheartened at trifling misfortunes.
The truth is I was in too great a hurry to be independent
and did not wait till I had accumulated sufficient capital
to carry out my projects, chancing too much to Fortune
which till latterly has not been so very unkind. The old
fault, Charley, make up your mind to win, and if you lose
shift for yoiu^elf as best you may. Talking of losing you
will be sorry to hear that my little bay horse Walker has
been beaten at last for the Annual Steeplechase at Penola.
He was just off a journey so had hardly a chance, but the
mare that won was too fast for him. The fences were all
stiff timber leaps 4 ft. 6 in. in height, post and rail with
a cap or coping rail nailed along the top, very strong and
massive. I will not dwell on the race. I had him stabled
a few days and brought him out looking bright and bloom-
ing, but stale on his legs, tho' I kept dose to the cold water
hand rubbing and bandaging system which your father
taught me and which did his back sinews some good.
However we just got off together in a cluster, the pace
being slow to the first leap (the highest of the lot). Walker
clearing it in style with the mare dose at his haunches
leaping like a greyhound, aU the others refused and the race
was confined to us two. I led for nearly a mile, the pace
still slow as the little horse seemed afraid of the leaps and
LETTERS TO CHARLEY WALKER 417
was with great difficulty kept from swerving, the mare took
the lead at the fourth leap and gradually crept away from
me, and being much quicker over her fences I never caught
her tho' I pushed between the leaps, the pace for the last
mile being terrific. She won eventually with much
difficulty, and I must own tho' I said little I was greatly
mortified as it is the first defeat the little horse has ex-
perienced. I think I rode pretty well too, at least I tried
hard to win. It is the first raee that has taken place over
that course for some years as the fences were reckoned too
stiff. In fact only a first-rate leaper will take them, but
Miss Craig (the mare) is the best jumper I ever saw out
here and gets over her leaps very quick.
I left Penola the other day in bad spirits. You re-
member long ago my telling you of a pretty girl who two
or three of us courted and who eventually became the wife
of my companion Saxo^ who was stationed with me at
Penola. Since I left the Police force I have never been at
Penola without spending a good deal of time in the Barracks,
as we (he and I) were always good friends especially, for
we lived together when he married her. To tell you the
truth, Charley, I sometimes thought they did not get on
quite so smooth after the honeymoon, anyhow I liked her
better after I saw more of her ; she had her faults, but was
a kind affectionate girl tho' rather thoughtless. To cut it
short I was rather indiscreet in some things, for people
began to talk as people will do at times and I began to
think he (Saxon) looked rather queer when he came home
and found us together. When I left Penola the other day
a report had got about that I was going to England and I
did not contradict it. You know the feeling, Charley, when
a pretty woman wishes you good-bye silently with tears
glistening in her eyes and holds your hand very tight in
hers. I did of course as you would do under those circum-
stances, f . e. saluted her more than once and in a decidedly
non-Platonic manner, but I'm afraid he saw me as he was
just outside the cottage at the time for he looked very
418 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
black at me as I rode off and I have heard since that they
have had a disturbance about me which makes me rather
uncomfortable. I tell you this because it has occupied
my mind a little more than I hoped it would* not that I
want to lay any claim to lady-killing pretensions, such
follies with me have long since evaporated, but you can
well fancy that as Saxon and I have been old friends so
long a little thing like that may cause some unpleasant
feelings tho' obligations have been in my favour. I should
be sorry to annoy him and still more sorry to be the cause
of unhappiness to her.
I will not entertain you with recounting any of my sprees,
I seldom indulge in them, tho' a visit to Adelaide generaUy
finds me one or two days on the loose. At present neither
spirits not pockets induce such outbreaks. There is by
the bye a certain house where a night licence is carried on
in rather an extensive style within which is a large airy
room where twice a week a very good band performs to
the glare of many lights and flash gentry do the Ughi
fantastic toe business in the embrace of frail fair ones.
Of this €iforesaid house I could perchance tell a brief tale
tho' scarcely a moral one. But I am a reformed character
now, Charley, and must for a time forget these matters;
my present steps are not quite decided on but in a short
time I hope to be able to give you some good news, perhaps
to tell you that before many months are past you will
stand a chance of seeing the well-nigh forgotten ugly mug
of your brave comrade and hearing from his own kisser
(mouth) an account of some of his wanderings, when you
will learn that like the Trojan iEneas he has been ^^ Multum
et terris jactatus et alto.'* Write nevertheless in answer
to this, and that with speed, tho' I would fain hope that the
precaution is needless and that your letter may pass me
on the salt water. And dear Jane, Charley, I am almost
afraid to speak of her, is she married yet ? I can scarcely
mention her to you without a sudden moisture of the
eyelids, which however, dries up almost as soon as it rises
LETTERS TO CHARLEY WALKER 419
owing to the drsmess of the soil. Strange it may seem to
you that after a long absence a careless selfish chap like
me should still think of her with feelings undiminished by
time, absence or new faces. ... If you can, Charley, see
her and speak to her of me, it would seem to me the nearest
approach to seeing her in person for my old friend to
mention me to her and tell her what news of me he thinks
would please her to hear, tho' I expect she cares little now
to hear my name mentioned. Respects to your father, I
hope he is well and fortunate and that my namesake the
Capt. has turned out a trump card for him, and Cheer up
old boy as my song says ^^ For a stout heart proof 'gainst
fate is.''
Believe me, dear Charley, now as ever,
Your sincere friend,
Lindsay Gordon.
Write soon, old boy, I often think of it. Wish I had you
out here you might ■ at yr trade. It seems but yester-
day that I was fighting C. Skinner about Janems ^ and that
I was with you at the old station.
^ Janems (Jane).
£ E2
CHAPTER VII
OTHER LETTERS WRITTEN BY A. L. GORDON, INCLUDING
A LETTER TO HIS UNCLE GIVEN IN HIS OWN HAND-
WRITING
The letter from Gordon to his uncle. Captain R. C. H.
Gordon, written just before the poet was elected to the
South Australian Parliament, is, by kind permission of Miss
Frances Gordon, given in his own handwriting.
420
A SKETCH BY GORDON
:'i
n
i
1 lo V "'■. ; I *||l
422 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
GORDON'S HANDWRITING 428
4^ ivi**^*- *■ ^'^'
424 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
/^♦/cft*^ ^a^^'^u^A^ ^ < /^^*^' ^^-i^Ec ^«-^a^
fit It a/ Om-pU c-^-^ ^^-^^ a,M*juJ,£i^ .^$- ^
^ 4^^ <ft»/:»l^ ^«-#X
GORDON'S HANDWRITING 425
C^^ >6 uiiu:^^ -^ ^ ^^ ^
426 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
^.it. tfJU^*- iUtA^ ur*t*^sc: ^k,n»^
Mr^-^L »^ i/' Ur9^, Oi>-^ot. Am*^
^ ^y.^^rrr.^:^^^
yfcw i/ /^t^*^ ^^^^ aJL^ ^-»
^*- — i^ y .„^ ^.i^ti. ^f>^
»4t*5;;i /*-«, Ct. *•* '^^^^ y^ ^y^i^^ *V^>i«-t>'
LETTERS TO GEORGE RIDDOCH 427
Lettebs fbom a. L. Gordon to George Riddoch
LXTTSB II
I2th Dec, 1868.
''Dear Georoe Riddoch,
*'Your letter dated 26th Nov., reached me only
a few days ago. There is nothing I should like better than
to spend a few weeks with you, and I should certainly have
been at your place or on the road that way before this if
I had not been detained by one or two things, in the first
place, my wife came round by the Penola about a fortnight
ago, and we are staying in some quiet lodgings at North
Brighton, but I shall be able to get away shortly, and I
shall certainly come your way — I have been tolerably busy
lately, that is, I have been working hard by fits and starts
and then taking a lazy spell for a few days — I have not
been very strong, but am ever so much better than I was
some months ago— I have written to your brother and am
expecting an answer from him. When I come to South
Australia I think I shall ride, as I have one horse left that
I do not care to part with here. I think she would suit
your brother well if he wants a weight-carrying hack, well
bred^and fast — I will write again in a few days and will
let you know when you may expect me — I was thinking
of coming to see you some time ago and before you had
any idea of inviting me. I suppose you do not feel dull
up there in the scrub, having so much to employ your time
— I would write at more length but I have nothing to say
beyond accepting your invitation and thanking you for it —
I do not know now while I write whether your brother is
still in Adelaide or whether he has left for Yallum — ^Mrs.
Gordon is well and sends you her kind regards,
" Yrs. V. truly,
**A. Lindsay Gordon.
"* Mrs. Gordon sends her kind regards to you."
428 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
III
North Brighton.
Jviy 21» 1869.
''My dear Geobge,
''I should have written to you a fortnight ago — ^I
got your letter all right — I heard of your hurried passage
through Melbourne, I think, from John, whom I have seen
once or twice since I saw you — I have nothing interesting
to communicate — I lunch'd with your friend Forbes
yesterday, who ask'd after you — ^I met him at the Hunt
on Tuesday, and we retum'd to town in company, escorting
one of the wounded. Young Jones,^ who got a good fall and
a black eye. I have a chestnut horse now, by Frank, out
of a King Alfred mare. I think rather a good one — ^we have
had some fairish sport with our hounds. Mrs. Gordon was
out once on Badger, since sold for £80 to a Ballarat man.
She rode him very well — ^she was out once since on a mare,
but she did not follow on the second occasion. The great
Montgomery left to-day for Adelaide after making an ass
of himself as usual. It is a pity that one so clever in his
profession should be so silly. I met your favourite. The
Drone, three times under silk. I won at Caulfield, where
I had to give his rider nineteen pounds. At Bylands the
mare I rode was lame but she ran third. The Drone
nowhere. At Croxton Park ? I could have been second
if I had chosen — ^the Drone again sticking up. The mare
is no good — ^she can jump a little but is not fast and can't
stay, besides her fetlock joint is gone.
'' I believe the Coursing Match went off well, though the
Melbourne men seem dissatisfied with the verdicts — ^was
Connor ^ to blame ? The weather has been unusually dry
and fine, too fine, indeed. Have you had any rain up
your way yet, if not, you must want some soon. The
town is quiet enough now, though I have not been there
^ Harry Jones of Biiuun station, who built the house at Robe occupied
in the summer by Sir James Fergusson, tiie South Australian Oovemor.
' He started coursing in the Narraooorte S. A. Coursing Club, the finit
in Australia.
LETTERS TO GEORGE RIDDOCH 429
much lately. I go in about twice a week now ^ Michie has
been lecturing very ably I hear, and Parliament is dull.
The bribery cases having died a natural death at Ictst.
Mining at Ballarat has been going ahead, I suppose there will
be a reaction and a horror of great dulness in consequence.
" The prices of wool are not very cheering, I expect, and
the squatters are grumbling and groaning more than ever.
Major Baker went to Sydney to-day and I went to Sand-
ridge ? with him — Herbert Power kill'd a very iBne colt
by Mariner last Saturday with the hounds — I suppose
Collie has had a glut of post and rails by this time, and the
chestnut is nearly gorged with timber, though I don't
know whether the unfortimate fences have not suffered
most, for I should say there was not half a dozen flights
in sixty square miles of the Tatiara. How they must have
been punish'd —
" There have been wars and rumours of wars between
farmers and hunting men here, and something of the sort
has been reported in Adelaide — ^though E ^ who has
been ' felling timber ' wholesale on a big, ugly brute that
I was lucky enough to sell him, does not mention the
campaign in a letter five yards long and closely written
on all sides, which I got yesterday. Though, by the bye,
I am not sure, for I have not finish'd the epistle yet. I
threw up the sponge one yard from the Postscript, which
is longer than the letter.
** Pray give my kind regards to your mother and sister
and drop me a line now and again. I know writing is a
great bore but you are capable of a sacrifice sometimes.
I got a letter from your brother the other day, which I
have not answer'd yet. I must try and do this in time
for this week's post. Hoping everybody is well with you
and that you will let me hear from you again,
"lam,
*' Yrs. V. truly,
"A* Lindsay Gobdon.'I
^ Afterwards Sir Archibald Michie, Agent-General for Victoria.
CHAPTER Vni
SOME NOTES MADE ON THE GORDON COUNTRY IN
SOUTH AUSTRALIA IN NOVEMBER 1887
By C. D. Maokbixab, Author of " Scented lales and Coral GraxdeiiB.**
The district which lies between and around the extinct
vc^cano of Mount Gambier and Penola is for the most part
quite flat, and was at that time clothed with the partly
dead and partly living primieval forest. Riding and
driving one was often aware by the hollow rumbling sound,
that one was passing over huge caves or cavities. At the
season of the year I was there the whole country was under
some feet of water. As there are many depressions,
waterholes and swamps, from which too rise the dead or
living trees, it is at this season impossible to tell in this sea
of water where these depressions are. They are full of
fallen timber, logs and branches, and riding one gets many
an unpleasant surprise on suddenly plunging down into
these unexpected places, with much danger of injuring your
horse by the snags. In hunting kangaroo, which at
that time swarmed in the country, I have had unpleasant
experiences. Sometimes also a hole breaks out in the
ground, the roof of the hidden cave bdow giving way, the
water rushes down and fills the cavity, and these "Run-away
Holes " as they are locally called, are very dangerous.
Penola was a small town of the usual Australian type.
When the railway between Adelaide and Melbourne was
being built, Penola could not make up her mind whether
she wanted it or not; having been an important place in
the coaching days, she did not relish the thought of sinking
into a mere way-side station, so whilst she hesitated the
430
GORDON COUNTRY IN S. AUSTRALIA 481
railway ignored her and passed by at some distance from
the town. For a small town the inhabitants numbered
many odd characters.
One mysterious man there who was locally reputed to be
^^ a lord," and had no fingers on either hand, married his
servant, who when she was asked how she could marry a
man with no fingers, held up her own and said, " Why, he
has ten — ^and then he is a lord."
There was even a haunted house in the country. The
family inhabiting it who wanted their grandmother to make
a will in their favour when she was dying, told her the devil
was coming for her and dragged chains up and down the
verandah in order to warn her of his advent. After she did
die the sound of chains being dragged up and down the
verandah never ceased, and terrified all who heard it —
quite a pretty story for a bush house. So said local
gossip.
YaUum. About five miles from Penola lay Yallum Park,
the residence of John Riddoch, in the midst of the many
wide acres which formed but one of the properties owned
by him in this district. The house was approached
from the road by an entrance lodge and long drive through
a deer-park, where numbers of fallow-deer grouped them-
selves in picturesque fashion under the trees. Well laid-
out and extensive gardens and orchards surrounded the
house, and a feature of these gardens was the very thick
high-grown hedges, doomed at that time to destruction on
account of the immense numbers of troublesome sparrows
they harboured. Mr. Riddoch — ^who was locally known
as •* The Squire of Penola " — ^had many people inhis employ-
ment and paid his head gardener £200 a year. The house
was a large stone mansion surrounded by balconies and
verandahs and contained many spacious and well-furnished
apartments ; two drawing-rooms, the library, the billiard-
room and Miss Riddoch's boudoir being really fine rooms.
The butler who opened the door for you might have been
the family retainer of some ancient family in England.
432 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
The stables, with all the farm buildings which were grouped
at the back of this mansion, were quite in keeping and
contained Mr. Riddoch's celebrated pedigree horses and
bidls, the prices of which ran to fouir figures, as did the
prices of his stud rams. It was in such fashion that this
country magnate — ^an AustraHan squatter — ^lived amongst
his countless herds and flocks.
To one side of the mansion stood the old house, a pleasant
one-storeyed building surrounded by broad verandahs
clothed in creeping plants ; and close to it rose the gnarled
old gum-tree within the branches of which Adam Lindsay
Gordon sometimes took refuge, when he wanted to be alone
and escape from people, and where he is supposed to have
composed some of his poems.^ In Miss Riddoch's album
were poems written for her which have never been pub-
lished. He and Mr. Eiddoch being colleagues in the
South Australian Parliament, he was very frequently at
Yallum and for long periods. In those days every Aus-
tralian bush home had a cottage or building for the
reception and entertainment of strangers or travellers;
the hospitality being boundless.
Yallum Park was visited by Prince Edward and Prince
George (his present Majesty) on their touir round the world,
and in the book recording their journey they make references
to Mr. Riddoch and Yallum.
Adam Lindsay Gordon having been the colleague in the
South Australian Parliament of Mr. Riddoch, was much at
Yallum. Mr. Riddoch had a very high opinion of Gordon,
and told me that despite his restlessness he was a thorough
gentleman at heart, and singularly honourable, never
having been known to do a dishonourable thing. He was
extremely kind-hearted, but subject to moods of depression
alternating with wild spirits. Mr. Riddoch gave all
Gordon's letters he possessed to the late Alexander
Sutherland of Melbourne, who was writing an article on
1 " The Siok Stockrider," *' Doabtful Dreams," '' How we Beat the
FayoQrite," " The Ride from the Wreck."
GORDON COUNTRY IN S. AUSTRALIA 488
him.^ The Riddochs owned Valium, Katnook, and
Glencoe, these properties being very extensive.
The other properties in the district were Penola station,
of which *' Sandy Cameron, King of Penola," had been the
pioneer owner. He was father of J. Cameron of Warrayure,
(Vic), of Mrs. D. Twomey of Kolor, Mrs. Leander Clarke of
Mount Sturgeon, Mrs. Heales, Mrs. Stretch and Mrs. J.
Robertson of Struan (Vic), all well-known people. Nang-
warry was the Gardiners' place; Krongart the Skenes';
Limestone Ridge bdonged to Mrs. Macarthur, widow of
the pioneer squatter, and besides other places there is
Struan, the immense property of the Robertsons, whose
father had been one of the pioneer settlers of the district,
and known as '' Poor Man Robertson " for what reason
I do not know. It was originally called Mosquito Plains.
All these places and others about were of course familiar
to Gordon.
Struan. This place and family had no connection with
the Robertsons of Struan in Victoria. The house, which
is the centre of a very large property, lies in a hollow just
by the side of the main road which, till the days of the
railway, was the coach-road between Adelaide and Mel-
bourne. It is a large high stone house with a tower,
containing forty-six rooms, one of the drawing-rooms
being an exceptionally large room. And this huge house
rising up in the Australian Bush was surrounded by a
perfect village of outbuildings. The family were renowned
for their hospitality. In the coaching days the coach from
Adelaide to Melbourne passed Struan House about mid-
night and halted there for refreshment, tables loaded with
hot coffee and everjrthing else always awaiting it by the
roadside, all travellers of all descriptions being entertained
free. The railway, of course, changed all that. Naturally
this generous, frank-mannered family were extremely
popular with every onei especially with all who were poor
or in trouble. Five miles from Struan are the Narracoorte
^ Quoted in this book.
F F
484 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Caves, now a tourist resort, maintained by the Government.
These limestone caves are extensive and interesting and are
gained by descending ladders. One large one, resembling a
hall and lit from both ends, has rows of fern-trees planted,
which have a very beautiful and strange effect in the half-
light. The dried-up body of a blackfellow was found in
one cave ; and left there with a grating in front of it, but
it was eventually stolen. In early days there was much
** black-bird shooting '* in this district — ^that is the blacks
were often shot. As Mrs. Robertson told me, they were
most troublesome, and the dried-up corpse was probably
one of those victims practically petrified by the action of
the chemicals in the rocky niche in which it was found.
GcrdofCs Widow. A few miles away from Yallum Uved
Peter Low, cm overseer and "boundary rider" on Mr.
Riddoch's estate. He had married Grordon's widow and
they had several children. I rode to this place from
Krongart about six miles away ; the whole country under
water every inch of the way. The timber in places dense,
and fallen logs and snags causing both danger and trouble
to the horses, as they could not be seen in the water. Peter
Low's house, being on higher ground, stood out above the
water and was situated on what for the time being was
practically an island. I and my companion had a very
cordial welcome and were well entertained and remained
all day. Peter Low played the bag-pipes, comet, concer-
tina, flute and violin for our benefit, his little son danced
the Highland Fling and hornpipes, etc., wonderfully, and
Elsie * the daughter, aged twelve, played with great feeling
both the piano and the violin — a more interesting family
than this dwelling in their watery kindgom it would be
difficult to find.
Mrs. Peter Low was a small, dark, refined looking woman,
pleasant in looks and manner. She (and Peter Low f<v
that) was devoted to Gordon's memory ; quite ready and
pleased to talk about him (as was also Peter Low), but I
^ Galled after a oharaoiw in the '* Siok Stockrider.**
GORDON COUNTRY IN S. AUSTRALIA 486
regret I remember so little. Round the walls of her sitting-
room were various of Gordon's poems printed on slips,
framed and glazed, and probably they first were printed
in this form, and it is possible that some in this form may
have escaped notice. She had all the editions of his poems.
Also on the walls hung pen and ink sketches done by him,
principally of horses or bush scenes ; and as well his smoking
cap, jockey cap, whips, bat, spurs, etc.
I believe Mrs. Adam Lindsay Gordon was a famous rider
herself, and that she used to ride and enter for the jumping
competitions at Mount Gambier agricultural shows.
She cried once in talking of Gordon, for whom she had
nothing but the highest praise. He was kind-hearted,
gentle, considerate, and had been everything to her. He was
very restless, sometimes wild and reckless, sometimes
moody. Often in the night he rose several times from his
bed, as some idea seized him, and strode up and down the
room turning his thought into verse. He was, she said,
" the soul of loyalty and honour."
She spoke of ^^Grordon's daughter''^ and, as I have
noted in my diary, once of " (Jordon's two little girls,'*
but I noted and have remembered little more of what
she said. She consulted me as to the chance of obtaining
— ^as (Gordon's widow — ^a pension from the Government,
and asked me could I use influence in the matter, but I
told her I thought her second marriage was a bar to that.
She complained of not having been well treated by the
publishers of her husband's poems; and had still some
impublished. I advised her to put herself in good hands
and publish a new edition, illustrated with the sketches,
portraits and caricatures, and include in it those in Miss
Riddoch's album. It was with reluctance I bade adieu
to this interesting family, and I and my companion set
forth to ride the six miles back to Krongart in the glow
of the evening. Just after leaving the Lows I noticed
^ Perhaps the illegitimate daughter who is still alive and residing in
the district.
FF2
486 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
a fine old gum-tree standing on a raised bit of ground,
an island above the water. The whole sky and the water
was one sheet of molten gold ; the trees and their shadows
so mingling that it was difficult to distinguish what was
sky» which were trees, and what only water and shadows.
Often we had to push our way through the honeysuckle
and other timber, our horses falling over unseen logs,
or plunging into unseen hollows, the water up to their
belli^ for five miles. My companion was supposed to
know the country and lead the way, but seemed to me
to be, and really was, continually bearing to the right,
and eventually we found ourselves at the tree on the
island from which we had started, having ridden round
in a complete circle 1 We had therefore the pleasure
of doing this ride again in the dark, only getting home
very late. Not a sound in the forest but the swishing
of our horses through the water — ^the silence was intense.
Kaiangadoo was some miles away from Krongart. A
roomy two-storeyed house of the usual Australian ty])e;
and was owned by Mr. Morris, a nephew of Governor
Hindmarsh. In Gordon's time it belonged to the Hunters,
and whilst some people said that the '' Stockman's Last
Bed," so often regarded as Gordon's, was written by the
Miss Hunter who afterwards became Mrs. Charles Rome,
I find in my diary that this was emphatically contradicted,
and that it was stated and believed to have been written
by Mrs. James Hunter, in memory of one of her Hunter
brothers-in-law. Probably Gordon wrote it and gave it
to some member of the family.
Whilst visiting at Moorak, which property belonged
to the Brownes, resident in England, and which is situated
on the slopes of the extinct volcano Mount Gambier, I
visited the place on the Mount where Gordon's monument
is erected on the spot where he was said to have made his
dare-devil leap, now so famous. He had the width of
the road, a post and rail fence, a few feet beyond it and
then a sheer drop over the precipice to the deep lake
GORDON COUNTRY IN S. AUSTRALIA 487
below. He jumped the fence, turned his horse and jumped
back — it does not look even possible. Mr. Trainer who,
was with him at the time, persists that this was the spot.
Both Mr. Riddoch of Yallum, and Mr. Williams, the
manager of the Moorak property, assured me they knew
for a certainty it was not the spot, and I was shown one
further on which seemed much more likely to be the
place. Mr. Riddoch had often viewed with Gordon this
spot, as the incident was famous.
The people of this district were all interested in Gordon
as the poet and the rider; yet though many of them
must have been conversant with other phases of his life,
and how he lived, they had little to tell, not deeming these
things of any importance or foreseeing the interest future
generations might have in him. Gk>rdon was familiar
with all this strange country, which becomes a sea of
water at certain seasons. The great Dismal Swamp was
spoken of as a place where mystery brooded and the
Bimyip dragged its folds through slimy water. Where
Gordon actually lived with his wife in that district I do
not know.
In the small and scattered community of the time
he must have been known to every one, and though the
old (and the first) generation has passed or is passing
away there must be still many who knew him well; and
it is a pity they could not be reached. Gordon lived in
what was the most interesting period of South Australian
history, amongst those who actually made the land and
were its first white men, and at a time when the life was
really interesting in its wide, free way. Therefore the
people surrounding him have their interest in connection
with him too, yet little I suppose has been placed on
record of those early days
CHAPTER IX
REMINISCENCES OF GORDON, BY THE HON. SIB FRANK
MADDEN, SPEAKER OF THE PARLIAMENT OF VICTORIA
Adam Lindsay Gordon^ when I knew him, was a long,
lean man, who for the most part affected the costume and
the manner of a horse-breaker. He had sharp features,
with bushy overhanging eyebrows, deeply-set eyes, with a
very peculiar glitter — ^a somewhat ragged beard completed
a most uncommon face. He was moody, tacutum and
sometimes melancholy. But when in company with those
he liked he could be a most delightful companion. To
meet him casually one would never consid^ him an
educated man, as from long intercourse with rough people
in the bush he had picked up their way of speaking, and
to a great extent he preferred their company to those of
his own class, or more properly speaking to those who,
because they had money, considered themselves to be of
his class.
There is no doubt that he rated horses above men, and
his love for them had become the ruling passion of his
life, although he was by no means a good judge of a horse.
It was very difficult to get him to speak about himself,
but he enjoyed telling little episodes of his life when in the
humour. I remember his account of his first meeting with
one of his humble but most devoted admirers, ^^ Billy
Trainor.'' It was when Gordon was in the police and
stationed at Mount Gambier. There was a drcus perform-
ing in the town and Trainor was one of the company.
He had been cast for the usual '^drunken man," who
intrudes into the circus during the performance. Gordon
438
SIR FRANK MADDEN ON GORDON 489
was on duty, and not realizing that Trainor was not drunk
but only shamming, arrested him and took him to the lock-
up. Trainor protested that he was one of the company,
but Gordon would not believe him until at the lock-up he
threw off the old clothes he was wearing over his tights
and spangles, when he was allowed to depart to fulfil his
engagement. Gordon was so delighted with Trainor's
daring and horsemanship that when seen after he left the
police, he and Trainor became fast friends and they went
away breaking horses together.
Horse-breaking in those days was no child's play. It
was necessary in order to round up the cattle on the
stations that they should have good horses, and on every
station there was at least one thoroughbred stallion, often
more. With horses of the class of King Alfred, Mariner,
The Premier, Touchstone, Panic, etc., it was only to be
expected that the stock horses like the mare that Gordon
rode " from the Wreck '* " were bred pretty nearly as
clean as Echpse " — ^and such horses, having been allowed
to run wild until they were four or five years old, when
they came in to be broken in took some breaking, par-
ticularly when it is remembered that the methods of those
days were '^ short, sharp and very decisive." It was
considered waste of time if the colt was not ridden on the
third day after he was caught, he was often ridden before
that, and at the end of a week he was handed over as a
broken-in horse. Certainly the men who had to ride him
for many months afterwards were perfect centaurs, and the
horses soon came to understand and to delight in the work
they were called upon to do. But the first three or four
days of the breaking called for all the courage, resolution
and dare-devil of men Uke Gordon and Trainor. When
Gordon was buried in the Brighton Cemetery Trainor
bought the adjoining grave so that in death he might lie
beside his friend and idol.
Gordon could not recite even his own poetry, and often
brought me the drafts of poems to read over and recite to
440 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
«
him. When he brought the rough draft of '^ The Sick
Stockrider/' I begged that he would let me have it for a
few hours to enable me to master its beauty and enable
me to speak it to the best of my ability. When I redted
it to him he was greatly pleased, although he altered some
of the lines.
It is only those who have taken part in the yarding of
wild cattle in those days who can fully appreciate the
vividness of the lines —
'*The ninning fire of stookwhipe and the fieiy ran of hoofs,
Ab we wheeled the wild sorab eattle at the yards."
The cattle*'runs consisted of serub, ranges and moun-
tainous country where the cattle ran at large until wanted
for weaning, for market, or other purposes. The plain
lands were devoted to sheep. It was a merry time when
word went out that the cattle on such and such a station
were to be mustered and yarded on a day named, perhaps
a month afterwards. The stockmen from all the adjoining
stations came to assist their neighbours and incidentally
to see if any cattle carrying their brand had wandered
on to the run. The country being unfenced cattle often
came from a distance and remained on an adjoining run.
Before the dawn on the day appointed those who were
to take part in the muster would assemble at the stock-
yard, where their horses had been yarded overnight, and
it was great sport to see the antics of the horses which had
been specially chosen for the work, because they were
fresh, when the saddles were placed on their backs in the
cool of the morning, " bucking " and ** pig-jumping "
round the yard they went, but they were carrying their
masters and soon settled down to work. The men were
directed to certain outlying cattle camps with instructions
to work the cattle on a prearranged plan towards the yards.
Gathering the cattle in the hills and through the scrub they
came along pretty well until they were driven into the
plains. They were quite used to the plain at night as
SIR FRANK MADDEN ON GORDON 441
they ccune down there to feed. But to find themselves on
the plain in daylight with men on horseback surrounding
them made them very unecisy and very anxious to get
back to their mountain and scrub. They were kept on
the move and not allowed to break. This was no easy
matter if in the mob there was a five or six year old
bullock who, since he was branded, had managed to evade
the muster. But when they caught sight of the dreaded
yards they would become frantic and dare almost any-
thing to get away. Then it was that the mettle of the men
and horses was tested. For it would be coimted a dire
disgrace if a stockman failed in his duty — '^ when he
wheeled the wild scrub cattle at the yard '* — ^for if they
once broke the line of stockwhips no power on earth could
stop their wild and united rush and the whole day's work
would be wasted. Like the rest of us Gordon loved a
muster, and if his sight had been better he could not have
been excelled as a stockman.
When he proposed to publish his poems I strongly
advised him to leave out ^^ Wolf and Hound," as I did not
think it worthy of him. But he would not. I did not
know until afterwards that he was the '^ Hound." ^^ How
We Beat the Favourite " came out in BeWs Life^ and within
a few days every sporting man in Melbourne knew it by
heart. We were all horsemen then, and looked upon
steeplechasing as the acme of sport.
You are mistaken in saying that Gordon '^ made a
living as a jockey." He never received a farthing for
riding and I find that the last time he rode a steeplechase
was in March 1780, when, on Major Baker's '^ Prince
Rupert," he rode as Mr. A. L. Gordon, ten stone. We were
very particular in those days, and if he had ever taken
money for riding he would not have been allowed to ride
as Mr. Gordon. For a man of his height to ride ten stone
showed how lean he was towards the end.
I think the story of his meeting Kendall on the evening
before he shot himself is also doubtful as I met him a little
442 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
after four o'clock on that winter's day and walked with
him as far as St. Kilda. In justice to him I should say
that the most unlikely thing he would do was to spend his
last few shillings in drink as he never cared for it, and so
far as I knew seldom took it at all. He shows his contempt
for it in his verses. Of one thing I am dear, that when I
left him at St. Kilda, he was absolutely sober, but voy
much depressed and melancholy. He told me he had asked
a friend to lend him £100 to enable him to get to England,
but his friend had refused to make the advance and he was
most down-hearted and despondent.
He told me he had finished reading the proofs of his
poems and that he would be glad if I would send to Messrs.
Stillwall & Knight's, his publishers, and obtain the manu-
script and keep it as a present. I did not think when he
said present he meant a memento.
I learned early next morning that he was dead, and so
never applied for the manuscript I should have so dearly
prized. He and I had an idea that we might illustrate his
book and I have a few rough sketches of what he thought
some of the illustrations of '^ The Sick Stock-rider " might
be. But he knew very little of drawing and the sketches
are only valuable as mementoes. When in the humour
he could be very caustic. At a meet of the hounds on one
occasion a lot of us were chatting — Jones being one of the
members. Jones was a very excitable Welshman, as good
a fellow as ever breathed, but loved talking. He had a
new mare on which he ventured to say he would do wonders
in the expected hunt. Gordon had been listening and then
soliloquized —
" And none like me, being mean like me
Shall die like me while the world remains.
I will rise with her, leading the field —
While she will fall on me
Crushing me bonee and brains."
Jones felt sick and went home.
I need say nothing of Gordon's daring or his horseman-
SIR FRANK MADDEN ON GORDON 448
ship. In riding over a fence he leaned so far back that I
have often seen a sweat mark from the horse crup upon
his jacket ^ between the shoulders. I have often heard it
said that he would have made a splendid light dragoon.
That might have been so if his regiment was always on
active service. But the routine and monotony of barracks
would have broken his heart. He was best in his well-
beloved bush, where for the most part he lived his short
life amid surroundings that were in keeping with his
poetic and dreamy nature.
1 In the MeUxmme Argus, June 11, 1908, Sir Frank Madden speaks of
" his tartan riding-jaoket — Royal Stuart Plaid — ^wom also by the Gordon
dan and the Gordon Highlanders.*'
CHAPTER X
MR. GEORGE RIDDOCH'S REMINISCENCES OF GORDON
One of the few really intimate friends of Adam Lindsay
Gordon still surviving is Mr. George Riddoeh of Koorine
Station, near Mount Gambler, South Australia, younger
brother of the late John Riddoeh, who was Gordon's
Maecenas, helping him out of difficulties and always
welcoming him as a guest for an unlimited period in his
stately home, Yallum Park, South Australia. Mr.
(rcorge Riddoch's station was at the time many miles
distant from Gk>rdon's various homes in South Australia,
but Gordon had a strong affection for him and an instinctive
feeling of reliance in the staunch Scot. The poet used to
say, " I could keep out of (whatever it was, going away
to steeplechases or what not) if I only had George by me.''
Once when he had been asked to ride in a steeplechase
at Ballarat about which he had great misgivings, meeting
George Riddoeh, he asked if he might come to his station
for a visit. Receiving a welcome response the two rode
together to Mr. Riddoch's place ninety miles on. The day
after their arrival Gk>rdon went to his host and said that
he felt he ought to go to Ballarat. Might he have a horse
sent on for a remount in the early morning. ^^ I won't do
anything of the kind, Gordon," said Mr, Riddoeh, " you
came here to keep you away from that steeplechase."
" Very well, then," said the poet, " I shall go without
your help," and as nothing could dissuade him, Mr.
Riddoeh sent the remount on. And Gk>rdon was in Ballarat
a few days after and rode in the race and had one of his
worst falls, so his presentiment was right. History re-
MR. GEORGE RIDDOCH ON GORDON 445
peated itself afterwards in Melbourne. Gk>rdon met Mr.
Riddoch one day in Collins Street and entreated him
not to leave him because people were urging him to ride
in a steeplechase and he had a presentiment against doing
it. ^^ Well/' said Mr. Riddoch, "' I have arranged to go
over to Tasmania with a friend, but if he doesn't mind
waiting, I'll put it off till the race is over." The friend
could not wait, so Mr. Riddoch went, and Gordon rode in
the race and had another bad fall.
'" Gk>rdon," says Mr. Riddoch, ''though he was wanting
in judgment in his own affairs, was fairly level-headed
about general matters. Mr. Riddoch's brother and Gordon
stood together for the two seats for the District of Victoria
in Parliament in South Australia against Mr. Randolph
Stow, the Attorney-General in the Blythe Government.
About this election Mr. J. Howlett Ross makes a curious
mistake. He says that the electors became dissatisfied with
Mr. Stow, ^' who was considered to be giving too much
support to the squatters." As a matter of fact Stow was
identified with the crusade against the squatters, to break
up their runs, and Gordon stood for the same interest as
John Riddoch, who was one of the leading squatters,
though neither he nor his colleague, Gordon, were extreme
in their views.
One of Gordon's most engaging characteristics was a
dislike to hearing disparaging remarks being made about
any one. During the election hearing some one make a
bitter attack on his adversary, Mr. Stow, he got angry
with him and said that abuse was no argument and did
not want to hear such remarks.
Mr. Riddoch says that he never heard Gordon say an
unkind thing about anybody except once, and that was
apropos of Gordon's first speech in Parliament. He,
Gordon, was speaking in reply to the Governor's speech,
which sets forth the Policy of the Ministry, and corresponds
with the King's Speech in the House of Commons at the
opening of Parliament. He (Gordon) brought in a good
446 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
many Latin quotations, concerning which the Hansard
reporter, in commenting upon it, said, he hardly knew
whether to characterize the speech as a Latin speech with
En^ish quotations, or an English speech with Latin
quotations. Years after when they were together Ifr.
Riddoch asked him (Gordon) if he had quite forgiven the
author of the remark. He said, ^^ No, and if I Imew who
wrote the article I do not think I could keep my hands off
him." Mr. Riddoch was surprised and said to Gordon,
^^That is the first time I ever heard you say such an
ungenerous thing."
Gordon had not a good delivery as a speaker. He spoke
rather stiffly and hesitated a good deal, but he could make
a good point. Mr. Riddoch had many long rides with
Gk>rdon, sometimes for two or three days together. On
these rides Gordon's behaviour varied a good deal. Some-
times he was quite sociable and would talk fredy and
naturally on many subjects, at other times he would go
off into a sort of reverie and start reciting Byron or some-
thing of the kind to himself, sometimes in a clear enough
voice to be followed, but more often mumbling the poems
to himself. He was always rather a monotonous reciter.
One very extraordinary thing Mr. Riddoch told me was
that he never saw Gordon lose his temper, nor was he
aware that Gordon had done any fighting with his fists
in Australia, though he knew he was a very fine boxer,
who had learned the art from celebrated prize-fighters.
But Gordon himself tells us in his letters that he had
fought a good deal. Mr. Riddoch says that he did not
know that Gordon ever was a stockrider, or a station hand
of any kind, though he would go from station to station
as a horsebreaker. When horsebreaking he did not
sleep in the men's hut ; he believes that he had separate
quarters or camp, and on some stations he may have
stayed in the squatter's house, but as a horsebreaker he
was naturally thrown a good deal into the society of stock-
men, and he had been a constable in the Mounted Police.
MR. GEORGE RIDDOCH ON GORDON 447
But these occupations, and the roughing it he had done
in the Bush, had not caused him to lose his fine instincts.
When he went to stay with the Riddochs at Yallum there
was nothing about him to suggest that he had not always
lived in the society to which his birth entitled him.
But he had lost any dandyism he ever had about his
dress ; his clothes did not fit him very well and he did not
wear them well. He was tall and stooped. The men on
stations treated him with respect, which Mr. Riddoch
attributes more to his mastery over horses, and his reputed
learning and poetic talent than to any knowledge of his
prowess as a boxer.
Mr. Riddoch regarded Gk>rdon as the soul of honour —
a singularly high-minded man, quite incapable of doing
anything shady in connection with horses, which goes to
discredit the tradition that he left Elngland to hush up
some shady episode in connection with horses.
Speaking of Gordon as a rider he says that he never saw
him ride in any of his great steeplechases, but he describes
him as being a wonderful rider over jumps, though his
short sight may sometimes have made him take off at the
wrong moment. On the other hand, he was absolutely
careless of danger. He had wonderful nerve and extra-
ordinary influence over a horse. He never knew anybody
who so dominated horses.
And he could communicate his confidence to others.
*^ On one occasion a kangaroo hunt was got up at Yallmn
(Mr. John Riddoch's place). Over twenty-six horsemen
were out, amongst the number Gordon, who was riding
a very fine thoroughbred mare which had raced, and won
on the previous day. There was also a sporting publican
who was riding the winner of the steeplechase at the same
meeting. We had several runs and kills before we got
into a rough stringy-bark range, on the top of which was
a fence made by felling trees and drawing them into line.
This fence had been lately topped up and I thought was an
insurmountable barrier, and tried to whip the hounds (grey-
448 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
hounds) off» but failed, and, thinking no horse would jump
it, I called to (^rdon, who was next to me» that it was no
use trying ; he looked round» smiled and went on, followed
by the rider of the steeplechase winner, who also got
over. Stimulated by such an example I would not do
less than try and found myself on the other side of the
fence and close to the heels of the other two. After
killing four kangaroos we rode back to the fence where
the other horsemen were, and as there was no gate for
some miles on either side, the jump had to be nq^otiated
in cold blood.
*' If Gordon had not been there the fence would not have
been attempted, and we should not have known the
capacity of our horses, as the jump was certainly a very
stiff one.'*
On another occasion they were out with a certain Mr.
Collie, who lived with Mr. Riddoch. Gk>rdon and Mr.
Riddoch had just finished the ninety-mile ride alluded to
above. Mr. Collie came out to meet them in the narrow
drive up to the house which is what they call a ''half
chain road " in Australia, meaning a road eleven yards (half
a cricket pitch) wide. There was a four-foot-three fence
on each side. Mr. Collie, who was well-mounted, nipped
over it backwards and forwards. Gordon often referred
to it asking sarcastically if Collie had left any fence
standing.
Gordon was not fond of talking horse; the only thing
he cared to talk about much was poetry. He had not a
wide range of conversation. Sometimes he would discuss
ordinary matters; at other times he got right away int<f
dreamland. He never showed any brisk cheeriness; he
was naturally reticent and depressed ; at night he showed
no desire to sit up or to rush to bed; he simply fdl in
with the habits of the house. He was a very moderate
eater and he seldom drank any spirits, though he smoked
a good deal. Mr. Riddoch never once saw him the worse
for liquor.
MR. GEORGE RIDDOCH ON GORDON 449
Everybody used to say that Gordon was an ungainly
rider. He had very long legs and a very long neck» and
used to lean forwards as shown in the caricature which forms
the frontispiece of this book. This was dashed off by one
of the officers of the 14th Regiment at the St. Kilda Road
Barracks, at Melbourne. Gordon wanted the caricature
and was afraid that the officers would not let him have it,
so he lay down with it on the floor and then suddenly
rolled himself out of the door and bolted. He gave it
to John Riddoch, who had it lithographed because Gordon
was so delighted with it. Mr. Riddoch thinks it is the
best sketch of Gordon which has ever appeared. He de-
scribed Gordon as having a thin, straggling beard, bleached
by the sun; brown hair, not very dark, and blue eyes.
You only had to dare Gordon to try a jump and he at
once went for it. One day he and Mr. Riddoch and a
friend went out for a ride, (rordon was on a nasty-
tempered mare. The friend said something about jump-
ing, and Gordon turned round and went at a fence. The
mare slipped on the greasy road and threw him, Gordon
landed on his back with his long legs in the air still holding
on to the bridle. He mounted again and put the mare
over the fence. When he got back to the house he drew
a sketch of himself almost as good as the frontispiece,
showing his marvellous versatility.
Ifr. Riddoch says that most of Gk>rdon's trouble arose
because he was so confiding, and that Gk»rdon's poems
did not attract much attention when they came out.
When he was living at Nahang Station Mr. Riddoch
went down to visit his brother, the late John Riddoch, at
Yallum Park. On June 28, 1870, something was said
about Gordon in the evening, and John Riddoch mentioned
that he had just got the news that the Esslemont business
had been decided against Gordon.
Next morning George Riddoch said to his brother,
" Don't you think I ought to ask Gordon up ? It is not
safe for him to be in Melbourne by himself after this."
o o
450 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
John Riddoch said, ^^ It's no use asking him, he's promised
to come up here soon."
When this conversation was taking place Gk>rdon was
dead, having shot himself early in the morning and a
little later John Riddoch got a telegram from Robert
Power from Melbourne saying that Gordon had shot him-
self that morning.
In those days Mount Gambler, which is twelve mOes
from the Victorian boundary, was a difficult place to get
at. To reach Adelaide Gordon once crossed the whole of
the Long Desert, ninety miles across, which had a few springs
at long distances apaxt. He is said once to have ridden
across it with his wife in a single day. Questioned as
to why Gordon says practically nothing about the blacks,
Mr. Riddoch says that even in 1865 there were still a good
many blacks in the Tatiara ^ District, but that they were
fairly civflized, smart, sharp as needles, as docile as whites,
ready to do a good day's work for wages. So it was
natural for Gordon to have nothing to say about black
outrages.
^ A native word meaning " good country.*'
CHAPTER XI
MR. F. VAUGHAN, P.M.'S, REMINISCENCES OP GORDON
[Mb. Vaughan went to Adelaide in 1855 from England.
He was in the bush for over twenty years in the south-
east of South Australia, went on to Victoria, and afterwards,
Queensland. He held the position of Police Magistrate
for over twenty-three years, and retired from the service
in 1909. He was one of Gk>rdon's most intimate and
beloved friends in South Australia. Gordon went to
him for literary talks as he did to Tenison Woods.]
In Marcus Clarke's preface to his poems he makes
Gordon the son of an officer in the English Army and
educated at Woolwich. Was his father not a teacher of
languages at Chelienham CoUege ^— ^with two of my cousins,
one of whom, Captain Herbert Vaughan, is yet alive and
lives at Cheltenham Lodge, Worcester, England, with whom
I had a conversation about Gordon two years ago when
I visited the old country after a continuous residence
in Australia of fifty-four years.
Gordon emigrated to South Australia in consequence
of an escapade of his in England concerning a horse— ^
I think a black mare, and entered the Mounted Pohce
Force there I think in 1858. I arrived in South Australia
in 1855. I knew Gk>rdon in uniform. He was stationed
at Penola and Mount Gambier Police Stations in the early
'fifties; he resigned and went breaking in horses on the
stations first at Kilbride belonging to, then, a Mr. Watson.
I saw him there at work and afterwards at different places.
He never went in for " Gold Mining," " Overlanding,"
or '^ Cattle driving " as Marcus Clarke's preface indicates.
^ He had previonaly been an officer in the Aimy.
G G2 451
452 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
father dying he came into some money, £8,000 or about.
He joined with a Mr. Harry Mount of Ballarat (whom I
knew), and they took up land in West Australia at Cape
Leeuwin for sheep farming. This was an unfortunate
speculation by which Gk>rdon lost half his money— ^the
country turned out unsuitable for sheep, having poison
plant over it. While farming this station (through his
partner) Gk>rdon became ^ (in 1861 or 1862, 1 think) one
of the members of Parliament to represent the district
of Victoria — ^this was practically the south-east comer
of South Australia — Mr. John Riddoch of Yallum was the
other member. Gordon beat the late Judge Stow, the
then Attorney-General in South Australia, by three votes,
thus breaking up the ministry — ^this was what was desired.
Always racing and principally for pleasure, money slipped
through his hands. Gordon married a little girl in
Robe, South Australia — ^Maggie Park, the daughter of a
stonemason, who nursed him at a hotel there after he
had had a bad fall from a horse steeplechasing He had
a daughter by her who died afterwards at Ballarat. The
widow subsequently married an overseer ' of John Riddoch
at Yallum near Penola, and presented him first with twins
and an annual present afterwards^ — ^her name is now
Maggie Low.
In Parliament Gordon was a failure. Well educated,
indeed, a classical scholar, but he was too good for his
company and talked over their heads. Very few under-
stood him and he resigned. Afterwards he kept a large
livery stable in Ballarat and used to race and hunt, but
money slipped through his hands and he had to give
up business. His capital being now nearly expended he
went to Melbourne and used to ride steeplechases but a
little, and write for the Australasian. As time went on
impecuniosity stared him in the face, ill luck, bad health ;
and the failure of a claim he had made to an estate in the
old coimtry unsettled him, and brought about his death
on Brighton Beach, near Melbourne 24/6/1870.
^ Really in 1866. ' Peter Low — aho employed by Mr. George Riddoch.
MR. F. VAUGHAN ON GORDON 453
I knew Ck>rdon well — ►intimately — he was hypersensitive,
strangely retiring, very quiet, hard to know at first, very
genial when well known, clever, brilliant in conversation,
when you could get him going, in many ways simple as
a child, no idea of business and cared little about anything
except horses and writing poetry and prose also. Many
sheets of as I thought well-written manuscripts have I
seen him tear up as perhaps one sentence or even one
word annoyed, exasperated him ; the work of hours, per-
haps days, thrown away. He was always either scribbling
or riding and training horses, of whom he was passionately
fond, and he understood horses, their nature, etc. Very
long in the thigh, he had not a pretty seat on a horse, but
he was a marvellous rider— could ride the rowdiest horse
in the world : he was made for buck-jumper riding and
steeplechasing was his forte, he could make horses jump
or go through their fences. He had no fear, and although
short-sighted rode his fences with great judgment. In ^^ Hip-
podromania," Part IV. " Banker's Dream," the words
How Cadger first over the double refer to a grand steeple-
chaser belonging to Gk>rdon. Banker was Major Robins's
horse. Major Robins lived and raced in Melbourne for
a long time and Gordon rode for him ; the Major purchased
Australian horses for the Indian Government in those
days. I owe it to Gordon myself that from his teaching
I was enabled to ride a bu(^-jiunper and consequently
able to break in my own colts and fillies in after years.
Gordon was no bushman; very short-sighted and riding
about appeared always dreamy, so on occasion he got off
his road and got lost. Once travelling from Penola to
Mount Gambier in company with the Rev. J. £. Tenison
Woods he got lost, losing the track. There were no roads
in those days, but tracks and directions — ^the latter very
difficiUt to imderstand' sometimes. Night came on and
they (quite lost) camped and hung up their horses to a
tree. They had no food. They stayed together all night,
had no sleep, but found their way in the morning and got
454 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
to Mount Gambier. Father Woods astonished the whole
district by relating what a splendid night he had passed
with Gordon, what a classical scholar he found him, and
how he had enjoyed his (Gordon's) conversation. I have
heard Father Woods speak of this* Hitherto the district
had only known him as a trooper (mounted) and horse-
breaker. Gordon was welcome everywhere. Many a
time after I started a home of my own did he oome to see
me, sometimes out of his way too ; there was always even
when he was at his best an apparent undercurrent of
sadness which made us sometimes sad ourselves; a con-
dition of mind such as Gordon had is very catching.
He was a very kind and considerate man — charitable,
honourable to the last degree, never spoke ill of any one,
taught his wife all she knew and taught her to ride and to
ride to hounds, which both did faultlessly. A cheery
man when one knew him in spite of his peculiar temper
and moods. He was stationed at Kapunda, fUFty miles
north from Adelaide once, and while there got a slij^t
sunstroke. This I think accoimted somewhat for his strange
manner at times, for he was different from other men at
times.
His poems have been quoted by the novdist Whyte
Melville. I remember him at St. Andrews, he was son of
Whyte Melville of Mount Melville, near St. Andrews, and
was killed in the hunting field. He was a Captain or Major
in the Warwickshire Regiment at the time of his death.
Am I right ? this by the way.
Gordon's "Ride from the Wreck" was written by
Gordon but the ride was ridden by one Adam Farteh, a
stockman (this, I know, is disputed by some) ; but lately
a son of Farteh's wrote to a newspaper man with the in-
formation. I knew Farteh, a bold rider, he was kiUed
in the hunting field at Mount Gambier over a fence. After-
wards Gordon had many good horses at different times;
he would never ride a flat race but would ride any one's
horse over fences for the love of it.
MR. F. VAUGHAN ON GORDON 453
I fancy Gordon's father had been a military man, but
not in the Imperial army. It is so long ago since I knew poor
Gordon that I have forgotten much of what he told me
of his people, in fact I have forgotten everything almost.
I care not to write anything except I am sure of it. I
have never known any one whose death affected his
friends half as much as poor Gordon's did, myself included ;
indeed no one in Australia knew him better nor admired
him more than
Frederick Vaughan.
Maryborough,
Qoeenalaiid, 12/1/1912.
CHAPTER X
LETTERS ABOUT GORDON, CHIEFLY FROM HIS LITERARY
CIRCLE
*' Anchorfield,
'* Muir Street, Hawthorn, Vic,
" January 25, 1012.
^^ Dear Mr. Sladen,
" Our mutiud friend Henry Gyles Turner has just
passed on your letter asking me at the same time to forward
to you any Gordon information at my disposal.
" So much has been said and written about my old
friend, that I fear I shall not be able to give you anything
not generally known unless it be one thing and that
certainly not without a sad interest of its own.
** We were going together and not so very long before
his death to a cricket match on the East Melbourne Ground,
near Jolimont and, talking as we went along, he told me
of a project he had for a new poem, and from the enthusi-
astic way in which he spoke of it I thought he meant it
for his magnum opus. It was to be named after the heroine
he had chosen, * Penthesilea * — ^Penthesilea, Queen of the
Amazons ; a stirring * horsey ' poem full of the thunder
of hoofs and dust-douds and the twanging of bow-strings,
and, no doubt, he was the very man ' to the manner bom,'
for such a work.
" Something occurred to interrupt our conversation
which was not destined to be renewed, but I have often
wondered since whether A. L. G. left a draft or even a
skeleton sketch of the Penthesilea behind him.
^^ Gordon's widow, as you have doubtless heard, married
456
GORDON'S LITERARY CIRCLE 467
again, and no one seems to know where she is or whether
she has any unpublished MS. of his with her. It seems
not beyond the limits of possibility, however, that a draft
or perhaps some stray stanzas of the Penthesilea may turn
up years hence in some unexpected quarter — ^again, even
if a draft had survived it might have been destroyed by
some person entirely careless about such affairs.
"Here, however, you have a record of Gordon's in-
tention; if to record such an intention might be within
the scope of your work, speaking of Gk>rdon whom I knew
very well indeed, I have never yet seen a picture of him
that brought the real man before me. There is an early
(and awful) photo taken in Adelaide representing him as
clean-shaved as a priest. This though a fearful libel is
much liked by people who never saw him or watched the
play of his features. There is no expression in it whatever.
My Gordon was a man with a hairy face — a kind of Esau
— ^not shaved in patches, a bit of dean chin or cheek here,
and a small allotment under hair here and there. No 1
He wore a not too long russet beard, with moustache a
little lighter in tone run into one. There is not a single
bearded likeness to be seen in Melbourne, but every one
who knew him in these parts will be sure to be disappointed,
if the statue now projected comes out with an utterly
smooth face — Gordon's eyes, none too large, were of a
stedy-grey, and lighted up to blue as he became excited
in conversation, his nose straight, long, thin and pointed, his
lips (what one saw of them) thin and determined, his
forehead deeply lined and the crowsfeet at the comer of
his eyes, carried at times much merriment in them. His
figure and legs denoted a man who had spent much of his
life in the saddle. A manly figure and a remarkable one
at that — ^altogether.
"With many kind regards and remembrances and
wishing you a glad new year,
Yours truly,
Geo. Gordon McCbae."
458 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
Of course you will remember how Gordon took his jumps
in hurdle-racing with the feet jammed completely home
in the stirrup and at the critical moment with the back of
his head laid actually back on the crupper — ^from which
position he returned easUy and gracefully as the horse
came over.
Gordon's hair, of a dark brown, was plentiful and slightly
wavy, his complexion bronzed ; his hands which were large
and bony were brown.
He was very short-sighted, yet I never knew him to wear
glasses.
Once I asked him how he managed in steeplechasing.
He replied, ^' Well enough, but I see through a mist and
never beyond the ears of the horse."
In reading, his book or paper was held up dose against
his face, his nose almost touching the page.
His rote memory was wonderful. Gordon was no fool,
but he could *' rote " volumes (the exception to prove the
Shakespearian rule).
I remember one day at the Old Yorick he asked me to
accompany him to Massina's (the printer's), to get the
proofs of '^ Britomarte," about which he was very anxious.
We got them and returned and in the club there, it was
early in the day, and scarcely any one about, he recited
^^ Britomarte " to me from beginning to end fluently and
without a trip as he walked up and down the room.
His recitation was a sort of chant or croon, and I think
it must have been peculiar to himself. The time in it very
well marked. Once one got used to it, one liked it.
Mr. Henry Gyles Turner, editor of the Melbourne
Review in its palmiest days and joint-author with the
late Alexander Sutherland of The Development of AusiraUm
Literature — ^the standard work on the subject, writes —
'^ Some years ago there was a feverish enthusiasm
worked up about erecting over his grave in Brighton a
GORDON'S LITERARY CIRCLE 459
suitable monument, subscriptions came in very well, and
this was done, with the result that on every anniversary
of his death some of the members of the literature societies
make a pilgrimage to lay wreaths thereon. Recently a
bolder project for a national (!) memorial is afoot, as you
will see from the enclosed circular. . • • When I was
treasurer of the Yorick Club, I used to see Gordon there
occasionally in the late 'sixties, about a couple of years
before his death. Rather a reticent and downcast-looking
man, whose manner did not invite familiarity, though he
could brighten up when he got on horsey topics and the
glass went round. Like many of the original members
of that club you had to ^ make a night of it ' if you wanted
to get the best out of them. All I can say tor him is that
he was not quite so depressing as poor Kendall, and despite
his grievous lack of pence he occasionally let himself go.
McCrae can give you more useful information."
The late Arthur Patchett Martin, whose Tempk Bar
article, published in February 1884, though it was not so
early as the first Baily'a article by fifteen or twenty years,
was the first complete study of Gordon's poems ever
presented to the British public, says in this article ^ —
'' There is little to be told of his life in the Victorian
metropolis. Among an essentially sporting community,
he was far more famous as a horseman than as a poet.
His tall, gaunt figure, and his superb steeplechase riding,
became familiar to many colonials, especiaUy to those
with * horsey ' tendencies. He published his verses, at
first anonymously and always shyly, as though somewhat
ashamed of them. His bush life probably intensified his
natural habit of gloomy introspection; while he was a
sceptic as to religious creeds, he had a strong yearning
towards religious aspirations. Saving the occasional
society of a bohemian journalist or a trainer of horses, he
^ Quoted by the kind penni8«ion of Maomillan & Co.
460 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
was as solitary in the crowded streets of Melbourne as in
the wild and lonely bush of Australia Felix; probably
he felt more so. . . . He grew poorer and poorer, but was
too sensitive to ask the assistance that many a sporting
or literary admirer in Melbourne would have been glad to
afford. At length he became tired of the struggle and one
evening, I think it was the evening of the very day on which
his last volume of poems appeared, Adam Lindsay Gordon
blew out his brains at Brighton, a marine suburb of Mel-
bourne. This was in accordance with his cherished Pagan
creed, that a man should know when the feast was over,
that he should not linger at the festive board after the
lights were out.
" Most of Gordon's poems are singularly sombre in
character, and seem to be tinged by the bitter reflections
and dark forebodings that led to his own untimely end.
They are filled, too, with a passionate agnosticism, as of
one who cannot but hold that there is nothing beyond the
grave, and that life itself is a mockery and a delusion, and
yet clutches at any evidence of human love or heroism
which seems to show that man is more than the beasts of
the field. Such are the verses entitled, ^ Sunlight on the
Sea,' *The Song of the Surf,' * Wormwood and Night-
shade,' ^ Quare Fatigasti.'
*' As I now write I can, in fancy, hear the delighted
tones with which one of these ^ ancient boon companions '
used to burst out in the crowded streets of Melbourne to
the astonishment of the passers-by, with what he called
' Gordon's Epitaph on a Mutual Friend.' "
Mr. W. J. Sowden, the editor of the Adelaide Regies*
who is recognized as one of the chief authorities on Gordon,
and is heading the movement for buying Gordon's cottage
as a National Museum, writes —
^* I may add, as likely to be of some interest to you,
that with others I am negotiating for the purchase of
Dingley Dell, Gordon's south-eastern home, dose to the
GORDON'S LITERARY CIRCLE 461
scene of the wreck, immortalized in his poem *' From the
Wreck.* This was the wreck of the steamer Gothenberg
on Carpenter's Rocks, near to Mount Gambier. Dingley
Dell has gradually fallen into disrepair, and a generous donor
has undertaken with others to pay any reasonable price
for it, and preserve it as a national relic and rendezvous
of interested tourists from various ^paxts of the world, who
will go to see the scenes which Gk)rdon loved to depict,
particularly in his lines about the golden wattle which
abounds there, and also to inspect MS. and other objects
of special interest to Gordonians. I have good reason to
believe that our object will shortly be attained. Mean-
while, it may or may not be information for you to know
that practically all the movements to perpetuate the
fame of Gordon had their origin in South Australia. This
relates particularly to the obelisk erected near to the brink
of the Blue Lake at Mount Gambier, which is celebrated
as the spot where Gordon jumped his horse sideways over
a panel on the margin of a steep declivity — a feat which
was in recent years imitated by a well-known horseman.
You are, of course, aware that the wonder of Gordon's
riding was not that he did what many stockmen have
done, but that he did it in spite of a nearsightedness which
amounted almost to blindness. The other memorial is
that at the Brighton cemetery, which was largely sub-
scribed for by South Australians. It will not be news to
you either, I suppose, to be told that Gordon's widow, who
married again and is now Mrs. Low, is still living in what
we call the south-east — ^the scene of most of his exploits.
You are aware, too, of the fact that Gk>rdon was a failure
as a member of Parliament, mainly because he had little
appreciation of practical affairs.
A contributor to the Adelaide Registery writes—
" The bardy the scholar, and the man who lived
That franky that open-hearted life which keeps
The splendid fire of English chivalry
462 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
From dying omt; the one who never wronged
A fellowman; the faithful friend who judged
The many, anxious to be loved of him.
By what he saw, and not by what he heard,
Ab lesser spirits do; the great brave soul
That never told a lie, or turned aside
To fly from danger."
** Such is Kendall's tribute to his friend. And, with no
wish to exaggerate his good qualities or hide his blemishes,
that is the impression — a nobleness of character and
straightforwardness of living — ^received from the picun
record of Gordon's life, and supported by the testimony of
those who knew him. Beneath the proud, reserved and
usually unattractive exterior was hidden a courageous
and clean nature. Even in the scapegrace days of his
youth he was ^^ generous and honourable, but reckless and
misguided." His English military instructor found him
* idle and reckless, but I never heard of him doing a dis-
honourable action.' "
A close friend, Mr. W. Trainor, exclaimed of him
enthusiastically : ^^ Oh, Gordon was, I think, the
noblest fellow who ever lived ! Very queer in his ways,
though. I have ridden ten miles with him at a walking
pace, and he didn't say a word the whole time, but
went on mumbling to himself and making up rhymes
in his head." There was also something, *^so generous
and noble about him, he was so upright and conscientious
amid all the whims of his peculiar nature, that I felt him
to be of a stamp quite superior to the men aroimd him,
and the closer our acquaintance grew, the deeper became
my feelings of respect and admiration." A fine character,
this, for a man who had to earn his bread as Gordon did !
In his South Australian days the poet made the acquaint-
ance of the Rev. Julian Tenison Woods, who records that
even then Gordon was subject to a restless sort of dis-
content, which at times almost impelled him to the idea of
putting an end to the weariness of life. *^ This," Gordon
GORDON'S LITERARY CIRCLE 468
explained, ^' was a sort of melancholy through which much
of the finest poetry owed its existence." " This conver-
sation," continues the priest, ^'made a deep impression
on me, for I connected it with those sad and moody fits
which grew upon him more and more. He was very
silent and thoughtful in these times, and often failed to
hear half of what was said to him."
Mrs. M. A. Makin of Mount Monster Station, South
Australia, writes —
** He was working for my father, the late G. W. Hayes
of South Australia, who was a breeder of horses for the
Indian army. Gordon was employed to handle these
horses so that they could be shipped to India. He lived
for some years with relations of mine, all station people,
I was only a child then, but can still remember him, he was
altogether a strange character. I knew the woman he
married, we had in our house many scraps of poetry he
used to sit and compose and write them after his day's
work was done. I have his book of poems, also the picture
of his grave. Of course you know he committed suicide
on the Brighton Beach, near Melbourne. It was a very
sad end, poor fellow, and he had many friends who would
willingly have helped him. Money matters I believe were
the cause. Gordon's home while in South Australia was
most of the time with my relations."
Mrs. E. A. Lauder, of 8, Davison Place, South Melbourne,
gives the following account of her first meeting with
Gk)rdon —
" Gordon came over to our parts cattle-hunting and the
swamps where he got lost and camped alone at our creek.
Reddick, Beelish, South Australia, where he was a dear
friend of ours for many years. My late father was a drill
sergeant whom Gordon knew at home. So our home was a
house of comfort to him — we all loved poetry and our
464 ADAM LINDSAY GORDON
beautiful bush ; but we left that part without seeing fKX)i
Gk)Fdon. I left a letter in our tree ^ we called our posi
office, but I don't suppose he ever got it. By a piece o1
poetry I read in the Australaaian, I found out he was deac
and no one here knew where he was buried until I founc
his dear baby's grave at Ballarat, and his at Brighton."
Letters have also been received from Miss Phyllis Burrell
of 4, Russell Street, Adelaide, South Australia (whose unck
was in the mounted police with Gordon). Gordon was
constantly at her mother's house in Adelaide, and even on
the footing of one of the family.
^ Near this taree was a kind of glade where Qordon and Mrs. Laudei
were aooustomed to meet. Going to see this place after Gordon^s death
Mrs. Lander found in it an emu's nest with the three eggs presented
by her to Mr. Sladen and still in his possession.
THE END
Richard CU^ 6^ Samx^ LitniUdy Lmdon Mid Bmtgmy,
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